So Far From Home
by Teveldin
Summary: When Legolas is banished from Mirkwood by his power-hungry Uncle for a crime he didn't commit, he refuses to accept it, and remains in Mirkwood, unknown. When Mirkwood falls into shadows, the prince she scorned may be the only one who can save her...
1. May It Be

~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
So Far From Home  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
Prologue  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
Roaming through the darkness  
I'm lost and I'm alone  
Driven from the one place I thought  
I could always call my home  
I don't know what I did to you  
To earn this deepest pain  
But I swear upon my broken heart  
That I won't fail you again  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
Legolas paused deep inside the forest, the sound of the palace gates clanging shut behind him cutting like a knife in his mind. This was all too much, this was all an unreal nightmare. He turned on his heel and sprinted into the forest, pouring all his energy into his legs, willing speed and power into them even when his body told him it was time to rest. It was dead night when hours later he stopped, deep in the forest, breathing hard.  
  
He crouched low to the ground, trying to take in everything that had been thrown at him only that afternoon. The deep sense of loss that had filled him had been replaced with a burning, gnawing anger he could not hold back. Springing to his feet once more, he loosed a volley of arrows into a tree just ahead of him. Again and again he let his bowstring sing, and again and again he let the satisfying thud of the arrows as they hit their mark reach his ears.  
  
He finally ran out of arrows and fell back against the tree, pulling his knees up to his chin and letting his head fall back against the wood with a frustrated sigh. This was far from over. He would never, never leave Mirkwood to its fate at the hands of a tyrant.  
  
If it took him a hundred thousand years, he would fight it and fight it forever. Mirkwood may have rejected its prince, but its prince would never reject Mirkwood. Many battles, both of the mind and of the body, lay ahead, and Legolas would face them with out flinching. But right now, this was all too much, far too much. His eyes closed, and he fell into a restless sleep.  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
Chapter One:  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
May It Be  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
May it be the shadow's call  
Will fly away  
May it be your journey on  
To light the day  
When the night is overcome  
You may rise to find the sun  
Mornie utulie /Darkness has come/  
Believe and you will find your way  
Mornie alantie /Darkness has fallen/  
A promise lives within you now  
  
-Enya-  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
10 years later  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
A sound in the forest stirred the elf from his light slumber. He was instantly awake, tense as a bowstring and on guard. Wargs had been prowling the forest once more the night before, and he had since taken refuge in the branches of a forest tree. here it was- a shadow, approaching through the trees.  
  
Legolas crouched low, balancing on the thin branch as he peered downwards, senses strung. It was not as silent as an elf, yet far too quiet for a human. The shadow paused. A faint ringing sound reached the elven ears as a blade was drawn, gleaming dully through the branches. Legolas tensed. A human.  
  
The man made his way swiftly through the trees, casting a glance over his shoulder every so often. That was when the elf heard them. Sounds of loud pursuit sweeping through the trees, after the fleeing human.  
  
Legolas leveled his bow, a long arrow held ready at the string. He did not care who this approaching man was, but if the orcs were pursuing him that alone warranted his help. Mirkwood had been his home for years and even though it had rejected him, he would protect it. The man paused almost directly below Legolas, turning to take the defensive as his enemy drew near. There was nowhere to hide.  
  
The orcs swept nearer like a rushing wave of darkness. They were all around him now, leering and snarling as they edged the clearing, holding back for an unknown reason. The human gripped his sword in both hands. If this was how he was to meet his end he would meet it head-on and fighting.  
  
Legolas eyed the orcs, calculating their chances. Roughly two dozen, an easy match. The calm, steady gaze of the human as he waited for his enemy's attack surprised the elf. His dark shoulder length hair framed a young, steeled face, now gaunt and set as he prepared to face his death. Dark eyes showed a daring and fearlessness the concealed elf had rarely seen in humans.  
  
The elf would almost wager his life the young man was a ranger. His clothing was worn and tattered: a long, black cloak draped across his shoulders atop a dark brown tunic. He wore tall boots of supple leather that fitted him well, and inside one of these a dagger was concealed.  
  
Legolas dropped lightly to the ground beside the human, bowstring taught as he waited for a target. The man whirled to face Legolas, and for a brief moment their eyes locked. The man did not say a word, but his silver-brown eyes spoke for him. He nodded his acceptance and gratitude, and lifted his blade with a shout as the orcs surged forward.  
  
Legolas swiftly felled three before he was forced to draw his blades. He tried at first to keep an eye on the human, but his fears were groundless. The man blocked and thrust with an amazing speed and sureness, he could hold his own. The two remained fighting back to back, leaving no route unguarded.  
  
The ranger rolled an orc over his shoulder as it rushed him from behind, stabbing it to death as it hit the ground. He turned just in time to see on orc blade rushing at his face caught by an elven one and spun aside. Legolas kicked out, catching his enemy in the stomach. The orc's head snapped forward at the blow, only to meet Legolas' blade.  
  
The human strung his bow and loosed several arrows into the mass of the enemy as the elf was surrounded by the orcs. They fought furiously, knowing a single misstep or moment of inattention could be the death of both man and elf. The orcs had been unprepared for the resistance, and the tables turned as the two warriors slashed their way through the onslaught.  
  
The man plunged his dagger into the chest of the leader, and the remainder of the orcs scattered into the woods, defeated. He breathed in deeply several times at his narrow escape. Turning, he was surprised to see the elf had not even broken a sweat as Legolas knelt wordlessly to wipe his blade on the grass.  
  
"Greetings, and well met, my friend." The man spoke in elvish.  
  
The elf looked up quickly as the human spoke in his own tongue. His eyes narrowed as he looked deep into those of the human, searching for a sign that the man could be trusted.  
  
He finally nodded in greeting, discerning that the man had fought well and had been pursued by orcs. That and his honest, open gaze was sign enough.  
  
"You are Welcomed to Greenwood." Legolas spoke guardedly, sharply realizing how strange the sound of words had become to his ears.  
  
"Many thanks, master elf. I am Arathorn, son of Arador of the Dunadain, ranger of the north. I thank you for your assistance. I should not have made it through Mirkwood alive without it." The man spoke courteously, his mind swimming with unanswered questions about this mysterious elf.  
  
"Greeting son of Arador. You are again, most welcomed. May I ask what business brings you to this forest?"  
  
"I am come only to travel through Mirkwood on urgent business of the rangers."  
  
"These parts of Greenwood are not safe for lone travelers, whether they be elf or ranger."  
  
Arathorn had suddenly realized he may have made a mistake in calling the forest Mirkwood, knowing from past experiences that some elves did not take kindly to this.  
  
"Forgive me, I should not have called this forest Mirkwood, as it has come to be known by men in the northern realms. I meant no disrespect to you or your home, master elf.".  
  
Arathorn watched curiously as the elf stiffened at his words. He had believed that this was why the elf had become guarded, but perhaps there was something deeper. He pushed on, not wanting to get on the elf's wrong side.  
  
"I am in your debt, and if ever I can be of aid or repay that which you have given me today, I will be more than honored to repay your kindness. Forgive me, but I do not believe I know your own name?"  
  
Legolas hesitated. He liked this ranger. He was courteous and fearless, and part of the elf wanted to trust him. Perhaps when he knew him a little better. But for now, he could not reveal his true identity, to anyone.  
  
"I am Teveldin, and I took no offense, Arathorn. Mirkwood, though, is not my home."  
  
Arathorn, surprised, was about to respond when Legolas' head jerked up, his gaze somewhere behind the human. The man whirled, sword at ready. He had read the danger in Teveldin's eyes, and so was surprised to see a contingent of elves approaching. He turned back, but the elf was nowhere to be seen. Was it possible that the elf was afraid of his own kind? Sheathing his sword, the man saluted the dark-haired leader of the elves.  
  
"What has passed here?" The elf spoke as he eyed first the ranger, and then the slaughtered bodies before him.  
  
Arathorn spoke quickly. "I was waylaid by orcs, master elf, and was barely victorious. I assume that it was one of your men who came to my aid, and I thank you."  
  
"One of my men? I think not. We were far away from here when we heard the sounds of fighting. Tell me, where is he that aided you, and did he tell you his name?"  
  
"He was here but moments ago, he saw you coming and vanished. He told me that his name was Teveldin, but nothing else- except that he does not call Greenwood his home."  
  
The elf's eyebrow arched in surprise. "Is this true? This knowledge troubles me greatly, for I do not know that name, nor would any that do not belong in Greenwood cross it's borders without our knowledge."  
  
"Forgive me, I have no answers for my own questions, and I am surely unable to answer yours. I must be on my way, for I am on urgent business of the rangers."  
  
The elf nodded. "Go in peace, and may your way be safe, for these parts of Mirkwood do not take kindly to even those of the elf kind. If you are stopped by our troops, tell them Thailden has given you safe passage through these woods."  
  
Arathorn nodded his thanks as the elf turned and rode back in the way he had come, leaving the human alone once more. He turned, searching for the elf, but he was nowhere to be seen.  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
Legolas tensed as he recognized the elf speaking to the human far below. He had known him well, once. Once when he could still call Mirkwood his home. But that time was long past.  
  
This hurt Legolas like it had not hurt him in a long time. He had hidden from his own kind for years, and no longer thought very much of it. But seeing the elves he had known and led, and loved, and hiding from them was like opening the wounds anew. He hated this life. Hated that he was always running from those he should have called his friends- always running, hiding, just to stay alive. For years now he had spent his days hunting for his daily meals and on the move to avoid discovery.  
  
The elven realm of Mirkwood had fallen into darkness and he was powerless to do anything but sit back and watch as it ate away at the home he loved.  
  
Legolas climbed a few branches higher, silent and swift as a fox. He leaned back against the tree, and looked down at the long cut running across his hand. It had scarred, and still remained to mark him after all these years. He sighed and shut his eyes tightly as he tore his thoughts back to his life of the past, when it had not always been this way...  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
Well? What do you think? Like it, love it, hate it? There's a little button in the bottom left corner, if you click on it, a little window will pop up and you can tell me what you think of my first chapter! So click it? Please!? 


	2. Traitor

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Chapter Two  
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Traitor  
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There's another world inside of me  
That you may never see  
There's secrets in this life  
That I can't hide  
Somewhere in this darkness  
There's a light that I can't find  
Maybe it's too far away...  
Maybe I'm just blind...  
  
-Three Doors Down-  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
10 years before...  
Mirkwood Palace  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
Legolas laughed and celebrated with his company, his heart high and joyful, as the company lounged around the courtyard, awaiting the king. Thailden clapped him on the arm as he passed, shoving a tankard of ale into his hand. The prince set this down beside him, untouched, as he nursed a deeply cut hand- the same scar that would mark him as he was years later.  
  
"Comrades!" Thailden bellowed merrily, raising his glass to salute the young elf by is side. "Here's to the bravery of Prince Legolas, and his victory against the evils of the enemy!"  
  
The men cheered with a deafening roar and wooden mugs pounded together as the warriors drank the toast to their prince.  
  
Legolas smiled awkwardly as the men cheered once more and congratulated him on another victory. Granted, it had been a major victory, but he was not used to such attention, for, even being the prince that he was, the men had always though of him as one of their own. Now he was being paid attention he did not want, or in his mind, deserve. He had been counted as one of them for as long as he could remember, and he wanted to keep it that way.  
  
"My dear Thailden!" Legolas shook his head, quieting the men with a hand motion so he could speak.  
  
"It was your brave company that did the work; the praise is not duly paid. Without them, all would have been lost. Let us say instead-" He stood and raised his tankard as he rotated to face the men. "Here is to the brave Guards of Mirkwood, and our victory against the evils of the enemy!"  
  
A deafening shout rose up again from the elves, ten times louder, if it was possible than the one before.  
  
Legolas was seated again and, as the cheering and congratulatory remarks ceased and the men returned to their merry-making, his thoughts turned to his beloved father.  
  
His uncle, Mahtan was continuously with his father, and Legolas was not sure why. He did not trust his uncle, and had always found it best to avoid him when possible, as the older elf seemed intent on making the prince's life miserable.  
  
But his father... He wanted more then anything to go up and see him, and he was only waiting for the messenger to come for him. His father meant the world to him, and the two had been close all their lives, since Legolas' mother had gone to Valinor long ago and Legolas was an only child.  
  
He couldn't wait to tell the king about the success of the prince's border patrol, and began to grow impatient. He was about ready to go up to his father's room himself when he looked up to the balcony.  
  
Legolas' heart froze as he saw a dark face looking down at him, twisted into a cruel, sneering grin.  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
A cold face watched darkly from the balcony above. It might well become challenging to dispose of the prince, he realized. The guards, as well as the people, loved their young prince, and would not take easily to what was going to happen to him. Yes, It might indeed prove more difficult then he had imagined. He scoffed amusedly to himself as he realized the prince was looking up at him. He tried to read the younger elf's expression, but it was impossible.  
  
Unable to stand the sight of the elve's innocent revelry below, he turned and stormed from the balcony, walking near to the bed where the king of Mirkwood lay.  
  
The young prince did not know that his father was so sick, but he would soon. The black-eyed elf sneered musingly. He knelt besides his brother, and Thranduil turned his head with a moan.  
  
"My Lord, the prince has returned." Mahtan spoke, letting false compassion seep through his voice. "You know the laws of our people. Shall I have him summoned?"  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
The voice in Thranduil's throat was not his own, but his mind did not care. He was too weak to even realize he was talking most of the time, not to mention who he was talking to. He relied on the voice of his brother, which seemed to make it through his darkest phases, and was glad for his encouragement in the affairs of the kingdom.  
  
Little did he know that his brother's grip was slowly tightening on his mind, strangling him, weakening him until the woodland realm would be under his own power. The time was ripe, and Mahtan was ready to seize the throne under the guise of the king's word.  
  
There was now only one small thing that stood in the way of that power, threatening Mahtan's complete control and absolute dominion, and that was the young Prince.  
  
By law, Legolas would take the throne if anything should happen to the king. That is, if there was still a Prince of Mirkwood. And if Mahtan's orders were carried out as planned, there would not be.  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
I know, I know! This chapter was WAY too short, I have no idea why! It's um... *looks around room* It's the dogs fault! Yeah, that's it....  
  
Hmm, so moving right ahead- Just to make things just a bit clearer, Mahtan has the same kind of hold over Thranduil's mind that Saruman had over Theoden's in Two Towers. Mahtan's hold is so strong Thranduil just practically does whatever Mahtan wills him to do. So now that that's cleared up, great big thanks to all my wonderful reviewers!  
  
LSpencer: Glad you like it! Well, since his father's crazy, he doesn't have much of a chance to convince him of anything since any elf that sees him will kill him! But you'll find out more about that in the next few chapters!  
  
MacCionaith: Thanks! More chapters on the way!  
  
Aranel of Mirkwood: Thanks! And trust me, it does get a lot more interesting... In the 3rd chapter it tells exactly what happened to get him banished...  
  
Laswen: Thanks, and here's the next chapter! It's up a lot quicker than I imagined it would be, just don't get too used to this.... ;-) 


	3. Everything In Me

Hmm, so the next two chapters will continue the whole flashback thing, and then we'll get back to when the story started- okay, clear?  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
Chapter Three  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
Everything In Me  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
Hold me when I'm here  
Love me when I'm wrong  
Hold me when I'm scared  
And love me when I'm gone  
Everything I am  
And everything in me  
Wants to be the one  
You wanted me to be  
I'll never let you down  
Even if I could  
I'd give up everything  
If only for your good  
So hold me when I'm here  
Love me when I'm wrong  
You can hold me when I'm scared  
You won't always be there  
So love me when I'm gone  
  
-Three Doors Down-  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
"You sent for me, Father?" Legolas bowed a knee in respect as he swiftly crossed the room to where his father lay motionless on the bed, his head turning in acknowledgement to his son's presence.  
  
Legolas had been given the news of his Father's illness, and was trying hard to conceal his worry. Thranduil's face was pale and creased, his hands weak in Legolas' grasp.  
  
Legolas stiffened at a sound behind him and turned to face Mahtan, his uncle. He nodded a polite greeting, but Mahtan was not going to let him turn back to his father.  
  
Gripping the young prince by the shoulder, he turned him roughly so that they were facing each other. Legolas' ocean blue eyes flashed right back into his uncle's beady black ones, as Legolas stiffened and held his chin up, knowing he became taller than Mahtan when he did this.  
  
"Well, well," Mahtan sneered. "Looks like you've gotten yourself in a little too deep this time."  
  
"What..?" The prince began incredulously, but Mahtan cut him off.  
  
Everyone knows now that you were responsible for Raiaor's death." He spat, glaring dangerously at the prince and tightening his grip on his shoulder painfully.  
  
Legolas set his jaw. "I don't know what you are talking about Mahtan; that is over and done with. I am not a murderer, if that is what you are trying to say. Raiaor's death was of his own wrongdoings. I had no part in it."  
  
"Oh didn't you now? And how can you be sure of that, Greenleaf? If I am not mistaken, you are the only witness, and it was your blade that dealt the final death-blow. Am I not correct?"  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
Raiaor lunged, his eyes glittering with a ruthless anger as Legolas darted to keep the table between himself and the angry warrior. He had his small dagger gripped in one fist, but was reluctant to use it on the man, who did not seem to be in control of his mind at the moment, even though he wielded a broad stabbing-sword.  
  
The elf had already had private misgivings about the hunting party of humans that were his uncle's guests for the time. Raiaor especially- the man was so violent and cold, and now he had attacked, without warning, the prince himself. Legolas was sure the man had been hired to assassinate him, but by whom?  
  
Legolas had been forced to defend himself until help came or he could find a way to escape. There were no windows in the great hall and the human kept himself between the elf and the great wooden doors. The servant's entrance was a long shot, but he had to try it or one of them would inevitably be killed. Legolas did not wish that person to be him.  
  
He leapt up and over the corner of the table, shooting like an arrow from a string towards the door. Raiaor was on top of the elf in an instant. Legolas felt the air knocked painfully from his body as he smashed down into the stone floor, the human on top of him.  
  
"Say goodbye- elf!" The man snarled, raising his wicked blade.  
  
As he brought down the sword, Legolas reached out at the last minute, catching the human's forearm and bending all his strength to keeping it suspended in mid-air, only inches from his exposed throat. Time seemed to drag on into hours as they struggled for possession of the sword.  
  
Legolas soon realized it was useless, and quickly jerked the humans arm to the right and released. The blade sliced down and plunged into Legolas' forearm, but at least it missed it's intended target of his throat.  
  
Jamming his own dagger upwards, Legolas' blade rammed into the man's chest, piercing his heart. Blood gushed from the wound, covering man and elf alike. The man went limp, and Legolas threw him off, exhausted.  
  
He did not move from his position for a few moments as he rested his head back against the cold floor, saying a silent prayer for the life he had taken and trying to get his breath back.  
  
The doors flew open and he heard the soft footfalls of many elven boots. Thailden, sword drawn, let out a gasp as he saw the prince covered in blood, and rushed anxiously to his side, fearing the worst.  
  
Legolas' eyes shot open in surprise as he felt himself being lifted into a sitting position, "Thailden?" He murmured, feeling strangely tired.  
  
"Oh, you're alive!" The guard's relief was obvious, but Legolas felt the worst was not over. Waves of nausea overcame him when he shifted even slightly, and he teetered unsteadily.  
  
"Where are you hurt, my lord?" Thailden watched in concern as Legolas swayed and his face went pale.  
  
"I- I, I don't know..." Legolas started to answer, but the weakness overcame him and he fell back, Thailden's strong arms catching him just an instant before he hit the ground.  
  
Legolas tried to sit up again, and managed slowly as he turned onto his side and struggled to his feet. Thailden pulled his arm over his shoulder and helped him out into the hall, where he sank down onto a bench. Thailden sent one of the soldiers for a healer as he anxiously checked over Legolas' bleeding arm. It was not dangerously deep, but the amount of freely flowing blood worried him.  
  
Legolas felt like nothing could be better at the moment than giving in to the tempting darkness pulling at his mind and falling asleep for a long, long time, but the sight of his uncle raging down the hall stopped him. The look of rage and hate on Mahtan's face was deadly, but when he saw Legolas' wide eyes watching his thundering approach, he quickly masked his feelings.  
  
That idiot Raiaor had failed him once again.  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~ Another short chapter, I know! Next one's really long, trust me! Wow,  
only two chapters and 10 reviews already? Thanks sooo much, you're  
inspiring! You guys are so great, don't stop reviewing!  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
Effigy- Thanx! ^-^  
  
Farflung- lol, Scary chapter? Couldn't have said it better myself! :P Angst? Don't worry- you will not be disappointed! A little in this chap and the next chapter has a fair bit too- it's a lot longer than this one, in fact I think it was originally two chapters that I combined!  
  
Legolas-gurl88- lol, a one time thing, but I'm going to aim for posting every other day if I can! I'm really glad you like it! Yeah, I do live in CA! So you live in Oregon? I was up there just a couple weeks ago with my mom! Lot a friendly people up there! Yeah, so I'm rambling when you probably mean Nevada or something.... :P  
  
Angelbird12241- Thanks a bunch, and sorry it took a bit for this chap!  
  
Laswen- lol! This story will contain several cliffies, let me warn you, but it's nothing compared to my other story, where that's true for every chapter! I'm going to finish the other one before I post it, so far it only has about 19 loooong chapters, out of like 30! That'll be up sometime next- um, next decade.... 


	4. Crumbling

Chapter Four  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
Crumbling  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
The worst thing you could do to me  
The cruelest thing that you could say  
Is "leave me now" without regret  
And watch me walk away  
Part of me is crying and  
Part of me is hurting  
Part of me is dying and  
Part of me  
Won't believe  
That this is really true  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
"Raiaor hated me! I too was stabbed, with a poisoned blade, and if Elrond's sons had not been at the palace I might not have survived! I had to do it him in self-defense, and you know that." Legolas eyes blazed a warning at his uncle as he slowly hissed these words through his teeth.  
  
His uncle ignored warning and argument alike. "And do you know what the penalty is for harming one under the king's protection?"  
  
Legolas was not at all sure he liked the way this conversation was going, and was not even sure there *was* a law for harming anyone under the kings' protection, But his face gave away no hint of his misgivings as he tried to hit his uncle's hand away from his shoulder. The grip just tightened even more, the cruel fingers digging into Legolas skin though his thin tunic.  
  
"What do you want from me, Mahtan? This has nothing to do with Raiaor, does it?" Legolas seethed quietly.  
  
Mahtan only laughed, shaking his head as if amused.  
  
"You will kindly release me or regret it. I am the prince, and you will obey me." Legolas kept his voice low and deadly, the icy tone unmistakable as he stood with his unflinching gaze locked on the elf before him. Inside, Legolas was shaking. His father was powerless to stop his uncle from doing anything to him, and Mahtan knew this.  
  
"You *were* the prince Legolas." Mahtan smirked wickedly. Confusion flitted across Legolas' pale features as he tried again to jerk away from his uncle.  
  
Mahtan's next words hit Legolas like a slap in the face. Every word seemed to bring the older elf immense pleasure.  
  
"The King has examined the laws of the Royal Court of Mirkwood and found you guilty. You are no longer welcome in Mirkwood, Legolas. If you ever venture into any realm of man or elf or other race, you will be hunted down and killed. You will have no kingdom, no place to call your home. Your name will never be spoken again in these halls and you will be counted as slain among the races of men and elves."  
  
"In short-" Mahtan jeered, his eyes narrowing to cruel slits as he pulled a shocked Legolas forward by the throat of his shirt. "You are banished- prince."  
  
Legolas struggled out of the elf's grasp, his eyes wide with now unconcealed fear and shock. "Mahtan, my Father would never do that to me!" Legolas prayed that his uncle was only playing with him, but his heart lurched sickeningly at the words nonetheless.  
  
"And why not, may I ask?"  
  
"Because he loves me!" Legolas whispered slowly as doubt tried to grip at his mind.  
  
Mahtan laughed loudly. "You poor, pitiful elfling! So sheltered from the reality that is right before you eyes! Your father has never loved you!" Legolas stood frozen in pure horror as Mahtan spat the words contemptuously, in the tone one used on a small child. "He has only watched and waited to seize this moment so he could be rid of you forever!"  
  
"That isn't true!" Legolas whirled to his father's bedside taking his hand and pleading earnestly with the lightly sleeping elf. "Father, wake up! Tell me this is not true."  
  
Thranduil stirred and moaned. The king's eyes were dull and grey, as empty as the sky, and Legolas cold no longer see his father within their depths.  
  
The prince's eyes widened in fear and shock. "Father!" He cried, "Tell me this is not true!"  
  
Legolas did not see Mahtan scowl, closing his eyes and silently willing the king to answer in the right way, bending his mind to Mahtan's. Thranduil should never have come into this.  
  
"Leave me now."  
  
Legolas couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He felt as if he had been punched in the stomach and was helpless to do anything but watch. This was all a dream: A horrible, painful, living nightmare. He stared speechless for a full minute at the king, telling himself that his father had not just spoken those words to his son.  
  
"Ada..." Legolas breathed, feeling sick to his stomach as his heart went strangely cold. It could not be. His father loved him, he knew it. Thranduil was ill; his mind was not saying what was in his heart.  
  
Legolas bit back a sob as his father turned his face way and closed his eyes.  
  
The prince let out his breath sharply as his head drooped forward onto his chest, and felt strong hands pull him back. He whirled, striking out at the guards savagely, desperation feeding his motions. The guards jumped back, but Mahtan growled in frustration and snaked out a hand, catching Legolas' wrist, twisting his arm behind his back and forcing him to his knees.  
  
"You're not making this any easier for yourself, Legolas!" He growled into his ear. "New laws have been put into effect on order of the king. Striking out or defying the king's officials warrants public whippings or worse. I suggest you make the wise decision and proceed quietly."  
  
"You're a filthy liar!" Legolas spat vehemently, struggling against a guard who had jerked his hands behind his back and was binding them tightly. "You have poisoned him, or worse! You want the throne and you would kill to get it!"  
  
Mahtan's eyes flashed dangerously as he glared down at Legolas, now flanked by guards. He nodded curtly to one of them, and the guard slammed a fist into Legolas' stomach.  
  
The blow caught him off guard and the wind was knocked from his lungs as he doubled over as far as the guard's grip would allow. Two more blows followed in rapid succession, allowing the prince no time to recover and leaving him gasping for air. He no longer resisted when the guards shoved him forward, half-dragging the elf towards the door.  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
You stabbed my heart straight to the core  
Nothing matters anymore  
Part of me is crying and  
Part of me is falling  
Part of my is dying and  
Part of me  
Won't believe  
That this is really true  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
Thailden saw Legolas first. Two guards he did not recognize were pushing him up the passageway towards his room, where Thailden had just been looking for the young prince. His hands were held behind his back, probably tied. His jaw was set and his head held high in angry, cold defiance. The guards shoved him past a speechless Thailden into his room. Legolas glanced to the side at that moment, locking eyes with his old friend.  
  
He was caught completely of guard by what he saw.  
  
The defeated, hopeless, look in those strong eyes, glistening with the silver tears that trembled there, refusing to fall, tore Thailden's heart in two. Utter, weary purposelessness, sorrow, immeasurable pain all poured out of the prince's deep mournful gaze. But still he stood straight and tall, blocking his feelings from the world.  
  
The guards let Legolas go as they noticed Thailden standing in the doorway and mistook him as one of Mahtan's soldiers. "He's all yours." They muttered, walking past him and down the hallway as if nothing had happened.  
  
Legolas was down on his knees where his guards had let him fall, his head slightly down. He knelt there unmoving, eyes shut. Thailden quickly recovered himself and rushed forward, having no idea what was wrong with the prince. He grasped his shoulders and pulled him up, thinking he was hurt.  
  
And indeed, Legolas was hurt. But on the inside. His heart was breaking as he relived, over and over again, his father's blank stare, cold eyes, and heartless words. Leave me now.  
  
"Legolas!!"  
  
Legolas opened his eyes as the voice jerked him back into reality. He was in his own room. How he had gotten there, he had no idea. He slowly looked around him, committing the features to memory. This was the last time he would ever see it. The shock of what had happened had numbed his full emotions for now, and he was surprised to find himself wondering who would reoccupy his rooms when he was gone.  
  
He found himself being shaken by the shoulders by an elf he vaguely recognized. "Thailden?" In an instant, everything sank in. He was leaving Mirkwood. He had been rejected by his father. He had a home no longer. For a moment Legolas pulled back, wondering if his old friend would reject him too. He lost his balance and fell with his back against his bed. Thailden's eyes shone with tears.  
  
"Legolas, don't you know who I am?" Legolas swallowed, the lost look he fought so hard to push aside only adding to Thailden's torment.  
  
"I don't know anything anymore." The prince whispered, wincing slightly when Thailden reached out to cut his ropes. Thailden stopped and rocked back on his heels, surveying the young elf with mingled sorrow for the young prince and anger for whoever was responsible for it.  
  
"Legolas, what happened to you? What is wrong?"  
  
Legolas shook his head, trying to brush his eyes on the shoulder of his tunic. He bit his lip and forced his voice not to break. "My Father has banished me."  
  
The elf's answer took Thailden's breath away. "What!?" His eyes grew wide. "But- How?! Why!?" His voice rose as he became angry, but he softened when he saw Legolas turn his gaze down and away.  
  
"Legolas it's alright, let me cut the ropes." Before Legolas could respond Thailden leaned the prince towards him and sliced through the ropes, which had been tied far too tight.  
  
"I thought he loved me..." Legolas closed his eyes again as the blood rushed suddenly back into his numb fingers. He painstakingly stood, flexing his hands. Willing himself to move, he crossed the room to where he kept his personal belongings.  
  
Thailden watched him in silent horror. "Legolas, you're not serious!?"  
  
Legolas turned back to the guard with a sad smile. "Yes, Thailden. I have never been more serious in my life. I will never stand here again, never talk to you, or my father, or the other men." Legolas felt his over- whelming sorrow numb down until it was simply a cold, aching fact. He must take this path, his reaction made little difference.  
  
He quietly removed his bow and quiver from their hook on the wall, stuffing a small bag with some extra clothes.  
  
"But what did you do!?" Thailden sputtered angrily after a moment as he watched as Legolas went about packing with an infuriating calmness, as if he were leaving for another visit to Imladris or a hunting trip.  
  
"I'm not sure." Legolas bit back a hopeless sigh. "My father will not speak to me." The look of pain that flashed through Legolas' eyes with these words was not lost on the other elf, who knew how close Legolas and his father really were.  
  
"He- he said it's because I murdered Raiaor."  
  
Thailden ground his teeth. "Legolas, you did not murder Raiaor, it was he who tried to murder you! And that was years ago! Wouldn't he have done it long before this if he was going to do it at all?! And isn't your father ill? How could he even know what he was doing if he's as sick as they say he is!? How? How then could-..."  
  
Thailden stormed on and on, stopping suddenly as his own words began to sink in.  
  
"It's Mahtan, isn't it?" Thailden's voice seethed with quiet anger. Legolas nodded slowly and reluctantly as he swung his quiver over his shoulder and grasped his bow, his lips pressed tight in a determined line.  
  
He felt suddenly exhausted, and closed his eyes briefly. "Will you walk with me to the gates, my friend?" Legolas asked softly, a hesitancy to his voice that was unfamiliar to Thailden's ears.  
  
"Of course my prince."  
  
Legolas looked up quietly. "Do not call me that, Thailden. That title will never again be mine to bear."  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
The courtyard was as empty as Legolas' heart. Thailden walked as close to Legolas as he could get, but the guards made it nearly impossible. Did they think Legolas was going to run? Thailden clenched his fists and forced himself not to strangle the guards in front of him as they roughly pushed the prince forward when he paused to look around him for the last time at his home.  
  
No matter what that tyrant Mahtan said, Legolas was still Thailden's prince, as he was the prince of every elf in Mirkwood. The only ones who hated him were the ones in power. The shock was plain on the guard's faces as they saw their prince being escorted towards the gates between half-a- dozen armed soldiers.  
  
"Open the gates!" Came the shout of the guard in front of Legolas. That was another thing Thailden had noticed. All of a sudden almost four dozen guards that no-one had seen before had shown up, and obviously took their orders from Mahtan. No-one moved to do his bidding, and the leader was forced to mount the steps himself, cursing fiercely under his breath as he cranked the handle that drew on the gate chains.  
  
Mahtan stood above the gates, watching as the prince stepped forward, never to return to the palace he had called home for so many centuries.  
  
"Legolas Greenleaf, I herewith banish you, by the word of the King Of Greenwood the Great, from this elven realm and all others. These laws which you have been shown apply now and forever. Go now, and do not return- Under pain of death."  
  
Something inside of Legolas crumbled. He had known, but something about these words finalized it. He was doomed forever to a living death, cut off from his people and everything he held dear. He was alone.  
  
Legolas fought his anger. It would do no good. Turning to Thailden, he clasped his friend's forearm in silent farewell. Their gaze met and held and the tears in the soldier's eyes touched Legolas deep inside.  
  
"You'd better take good care of my troops, Thail." Legolas tried to lift his friends spirits, but Thailden only looked down.  
  
Legolas sighed raggedly. "I'll never forget you, my friend." He whispered earnestly.  
  
Thailden shook his head. "This won't last forever- my prince."  
  
Legolas wanted to believe him more than anything. Wanted to believe this wasn't true, that none of this had ever happened.  
  
He nodded, and squeezed Thailden's arm reassuringly before he stepped away. Looking up, he caught Mahtan's gloating, triumphant gaze. No, this wasn't over.  
  
~ -*~ * ~*- ~  
  
Thanks for the reviews all! Unfortunately, this is the last chapter you'll be getting until May 14! Why? Because computers are the root of all evil, that's why. :P lol, but I have to go now, so I'll answer everyone's reviews in the next chapter! But in the meantime, thanks a ton! Especially to Aura Carina! (a.k.a. Aranel!) I'll be waiting for your story!  
  
~Tev 


	5. Going Home

- -   
Chapter Five  
- -   
Going Home  
- -   
  
I'll get along somehow  
After the tears I'll be alright  
But that doesn't matter anymore  
I have no hope in sight  
Part of me is fighting back  
Part of me knows I can't win  
Part of me longs for your touch  
I only want  
Your love again.  
  
- -   
Ten years later... (a.k.a., end of flashbacks... for now....;-)  
- -   
  
When Legolas opened his eyes, night had fallen, and nothing was to be seen below. Startled, Legolas sprang up from where he must have fallen asleep against the tree and dropped to the ground.  
  
He took off at a run through the forest, easily brushing the branches out of his way as they snagged at his hair and clothing. He knew every tree and branch, and made his way to his camp as silent as a shadow, flitting noiselessly through the woods, shrouded by the dead blackness of the night around him.  
  
Legolas moved with a quiet familiarity and grace as he entered the small glade where he had made camp two nights ago. He should never have stayed this long, for he had spent two nights already in the tree where he had met the human. Both elf and animal were his enemy's now- he had no safe haven, no place of rest, and he always moved camp nightly now for safety's sake.  
  
The elf shouldered his pack and bedroll and brushed out any tracks he might have made before slipping away, thankful his camp had not been discovered. Many times in the last ten years he had come close to discovery, but never because of his own carelessness.  
  
He had remained unknown in Mirkwood all this time, and discovery would mean only certain death, no matter what he had been doing in the woods in that time. Legolas could not understand how fate could be like this. He had spent his time protecting Mirkwood from her enemies, but that was of little concern. He was dead to the elves of Mirkwood. And always would be.  
  
- -   
Three days before  
- -   
  
Legolas bent his bow slowly until the string was taut against his cheek. He narrowed his right eye slightly, and released.  
  
Pulling the hood of his long cloak closer over his eyes, Legolas ran forward, unsheathing his knives as he joined his fellow elves in combat. He fought and they accepted him as one of them, although deep down inside he knew he never would be.  
  
The elf beside him was young and obviously inexperienced, as he weakly tried to fend off an orcish blow. Just as the orc smashed his fist into the elf's face and raised a blackened scimitar to finish him, Legolas leapt forward and threw the orc down, slashing his blade across his neck and rolling him aside.  
  
He quickly pulled the younger elf up, now shaking violently as he stared up at Legolas in amazement. He clapped him reassuringly on the shoulder and placed the elf's own knife back in his hands as the orcs swept forward. Legolas plunged into the midst of the fray, spinning and slashing confidently.  
  
As the fighting lulled and then died, and the grey mists of dawn began to creep onto the horizon, Legolas slipped away, back into the protective shelter of the forest.  
  
- -   
End Flashback  
- -   
  
Arathorn paused at the edge of the shallow forest pool, dropping to take a long drink of the cool, refreshing water. He sighed and sat back, enjoying the momentary peace of the bubbling water and whispering greenery. He was not far from where he had met the mysterious elf only an hour ago, and part of him half-hoped he'd find him again.  
  
There was something about the tall elf and the look that had crossed his face, however brief, when the elves had approached that had sparked the young ranger's curiosity.  
  
The human felt sure that whatever the deep blue eyes had hidden, it was not evil or malicious, but perhaps something sad and painful, something that had happened to him or something he was running from.  
  
Arathorn was determined to find out what it was, and had been searching the forest he was crossing for some sign of habitation where he could leave a message for Teveldin.  
  
He crouched forward as he saw an instant's flash of gold in the water below him, on the other side of the pool where the water gushed out of the rocks. The disturbance of the water made it difficult to see, and had he not looked up at that moment he would have missed the brief glimpse altogether.  
  
He edged his way along the pool, dropping onto his stomach. Unless he was mistaken, a long arrow lay upon the rocks at the bottom. He hesitantly reached his arm into the water, stretching until his fingers caught on the fletching.  
  
He drew it up, and found it was indeed, a long elven arrow. It was not damaged by the water, and Arathorn guessed it could not have been there longer than two or three days.  
  
Arathorn knew the arrow could belong to any elf, but something told him it was the one sought who had fletched this one. Arathorn pulled a rolled piece of parchment from his tunic and wrapped it tightly around the shaft of the arrow, and standing, embedded the arrow in a tree that stood directly next to the source of the spring.  
  
He could only hope the elf would find it, even if it was only to clear his own conscience of the debt he owed Teveldin. He bit his lip in hesitation before he pulled a leather cord from around his neck and hooked it onto the arrow. Satisfied, he turned and slipped away.  
  
- -   
  
Legolas was glad of the darkness. It gave him a chance to rest, even if not in sleep. He loved the stars and moon that looked down on the forest from far above, out of reach of the troubles of Middle Earth.  
  
He sat perched in the topmost branches of a tall forest pine, climbing being a skill he had had many chances to improve upon lately. Why he found himself spending hours upon hours doing nothing but sit and stare upwards, often times from that very tree, he could not tell.  
  
Perhaps it was that he could look beyond the forest from here, catching blurred glimpses of other, forbidden lands far beyond. Or perhaps it was only that he could instantly sight any movement in the forest for miles around long before it ever reached him. Or, perhaps it was because if he stood and shaded his eyes he could see, glimmering like a beacon far off in the heart of the forest, the towers and halls of the palace of the King of Greenwood the Great, the home he still loved so much.  
  
It burned his deepest pride away every time he thought back to that day when the gates of the place of Mirkwood had clanged shut behind him forever. He never, ever, showed that much emotion. He had cried. Yes, he had cried, as much as he hated to admit it. But only for the first day or so. After that, he had come to the cold realization that tears did him no good.  
  
He had to face his life in exile head-on, day-by-day, or it would overcome him, crush him until he wasted away under the heavy burden of his own sorrow and pain. That was years ago, and time had seemed to pass like the wind, both agonizingly slow and breath-takingly quick.  
  
He had given up all hope of ever being prince, or even citizen of Mirkwood again. He was content now only to be part of it, to help make it as a tree or a branch make the forest. Yes, he would always love Mirkwood, his home. More than anything in the world.  
  
- -   
  
That glimpse of the palace burned into Legolas' mind like fire for many days after. A burning, painful longing awoke within his heart to see his home once more. Finally, he could take it no longer. And he did something he had only ever thought about doing. He went home....  
  
- -   
  
I know, I know! Another short chapter! What is wrong with me? lol But  
this is the last short one, I promise you! Thanks for being patient  
everyone and thanks for the reviews!  
  
Farflung: lol, ur welcome fore a bloody chapter! Glad you liked it! And as for your questions, I guess you'll just have to wait and see! ;-) Three computers? I only have four, including the laptop! Lol, my dad's into that  
kind of stuff thank heavens and he usually has things fixed real fast!  
  
Gozilla: Thanks!  
  
Aura Carina: Thanks a ton! Wow, I'm glad you like it so much! Lol,  
awesome-blossom? That is a new one! I'll get to PMing you soon, and I  
will most definitely be waiting for your stories!  
  
Ancalimawen: thanks, and you have no idea how close you are! ;-) lol but I've already vowed to even let on what's going to happen in the rest of the story, even though Aura Carina already knows everything! She had a great  
idea for a sequel too!  
  
Forever-mortal: Thanks, and yeah, I've always wanted to start a series,  
of which this is the first probably, of how Arathorn and Legolas are  
friends before Aragorn and Legolas are friends. :-P  
  
Legolas-gurl88: Thanks a bunch for the review! How was Troy? My parents aren't going to let me see it in theaters- scenes you know, but that's  
okay cause then we'll rent it and probably have ice-cream and pizza or  
something, which'll be about twice as fun and half as expensive, lol I  
like both Legolas and Orlando, but I don't have a crush- never have on anyone, never will! :P Convicted tomboy here! Lol I loved Pirates of the Carribean though, I still can't figure out if he acted better in that or LotR- probably PotC, although I feel like a traitor for saying it, but just  
because he was the star and interacted more! Yikes, that whole marching  
band thing sounds like a pain! It does get really hot down here,  
especially with no pool! Lol Sure I'll read your story! I have no idea when I'll get around too it, but I will as soon as I can! Scheesh, this is  
the longest response I've ever written! Thanx a ton and keep up the  
reviews! ;-)  
  
Sly-fan: Thanks, and I'm glad the flashback helped, I will probably end up putting more in later on when things start getting foggy! ;-)  
  
Laswen: Thanks a ton! And Oh my Gosh! I read your bio, and we actually have a lot in common! Especially, believe it or not, STALKING! I know exactly what you mean by that too- I stalk my friends and brother and sister around the house/yard, all the time, and I've actually become quite good at it! Lol I also LOVE horseback riding, English-style! I've been in a couple of schooling shows at the ranch where I ride! What kind of horses do you like? I'm into thoroughbreds and Mustangs- weird combo, I know! Lol I also love the outdoors and hiking and rock-climbing! That is weird! I'm not Jewish though, but Christian! Close enough, lol thanks for reviewing!  
  
Whew, lotsa replies! You guys are great, thanks SO much for all your reviews! If I forgot anyone- um, well, protest or something, and I'll get to you! Lol The next chapter will be up soon, really! And then things start getting interesting!  
  
Tev 


	6. One Last Time

- -   
Chapter Six  
- -   
One Last Time  
- -   
  
How can it be my narrow path  
Is hidden from my eyes  
How can it be the sun still shines  
To grace the shimmering skies?  
How can it be a woodland race  
Can scorn one of her kin?  
How can it be such evil lasts  
Beyond the years of men?  
How can it be that fate so cruel  
Can also be so kind  
How can it be the word unsaid  
Can break the soul and mind?  
How can it be a realm so fair  
Can fall so low again?  
How can it be a father's love  
Can fade into the wind?  
- -   
  
Legolas' throat felt strangely dry. His sweaty palm shifted its grip on his elven bow, and he tried to will his beating heart into silence. To no avail, of course, since it only seemed now twice as loud, pounding tauntingly in his ears like a drum, along with the constant screaming of his mind that this was all a fantastically idiotic, stupid idea.  
  
If anyone noticed the lithe figure, hooded and cloaked as a member of the guard would have been that walked quietly through the gates, they paid him no heed. Legolas could not help but wonder at this lack of security, but it worked to his advantage at the moment and he momentarily dismissed it.  
  
It was burning in him, driving him, propelling him onwards. He had to see his father, one more time.  
  
He knew the palace like the back of his hand, and had no trouble slipping from the places where there were few guards, into places guarded by many. For example, a short trip from the gardens, to a tree led him to the balcony of his own room.  
  
He landed with the stealth and agility of a cat on the balcony, before brushing aside the still curtain that led within. Nothing had been touched. Whether it was by his father's order or the servants long- standing respect for their beloved prince, everything was untouched and exactly as he remembered it.  
  
Despite the danger pounding urgently in his ears, he lingered, noting the carefully polished look of the chairs and desk, the books and papers laying exactly as he had left them, his weapon-making materials in one corner.  
  
Someone kept the room cleaned and well dusted, and Legolas smiled as he paused next to his old bed. A worn spot in the carpet directly beside it where his hunting wolf had slept faithfully by his master's side. His smile faded as his gaze turned to the velvet covered case on the desk. He lifted the lid, his frown deepening as his finger's brushed the thin silver circlet that lay on the padded interior.  
  
Shaking himself mentally, he turned, and cracked the door slightly, cautiously glancing up and down the hallway. No-one was in sight. He exit and crept down the still hall, hardly daring to believe his luck.  
  
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, however, then a door opened, and a dreaded figure stepped outside the doorway ahead. It was his father's door.  
  
Legolas barely had time to duck out of sight behind a convenient tapestry when the figure glanced both ways down the hall, and then continued at a swift pace- in the opposite direction.  
  
Barely containing a sigh of relief, Legolas cautiously waited until his uncle had disappeared from view, before going to his father's doorway.  
  
It was closed, but unlocked. He opened it softly, and glanced inside. His mouth dropped open, and his features creased into a frown as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.  
  
His father lay on the bed, eyes closed. Elves only closed their eyes if they were in pain or utterly exhausted, and Legolas did not like the idea that his father suffered from either.  
  
The tall, strong frame was now still and frail beneath the blankets. It was as if no time at all had passed between now and that day so many years ago. How could his father have remained ill for so long? It did not seem possible, and it was even less likely that he was ill [i]again![/i] Elves were rarely ill, and when they were, it was usually deadly.  
  
Legolas hesitantly approached the bed, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Should his father awake, what would he do? How would he react? Did he really hate his own son?  
  
Legolas' breath caught in his throat and hot tears filled his eyes. He longed more than anything to see that face smile at him again, feel the warmth of those arms around him. He had rarely felt these things even as prince, since the relationship between his father and himself had been somewhat formal and distant, but he had always believed, with all of his heart, that his father loved him. No matter their differences, which were many, they were father and son, and they loved each other with all of their hearts.  
  
He knelt slowly by the bed, gazing at his father's pale face, and felt his heart clench within his chest.  
  
"Father..."  
  
It was barely a whisper, and he was not even aware it had crossed his lips until his father's eyes slowly opened.  
  
He hastily stood and scrambled backwards a step, ready for flight at a moments notice. But his father showed no sign of recognition, or even of understanding or awareness. It was if he still slept.  
  
Then his father's face turned slowly away, eyes blank. Legolas bit his lip painfully, feeling as if his heart was entwined in the claws of some beast that was slowly tightening his grip, drawing blood.  
  
Voices outside the door, coming up the hall. He had stayed too long. The balcony doors- locked. Cursing inwardly, Legolas shot to the door and slipped into the hall, disappearing into the nearest doorway just as two guards rounded the corner, talking so intently that they missed the forest green cloak whipping out of sight.  
  
Much to Legolas' chagrin, they paused just outside the king's door, voices low and earnest. But when he heard of what they spoke, he froze, listening intently.  
  
"I tell you, Mirkwood is doomed! We can do nothing about it, we are helpless while Mahtan holds the throne!"  
  
"If we could just find him..."  
  
"And how would we do that? You know the law!"  
  
"And I know the law calls for just cause for banishment, Atar!" The voice snapped, and it was then that Legolas recognized the voice. Thailden, his old friend.  
  
"We could never get the people to rally on our own, you know this." The voices continued.  
  
"But they would do so for the rightful Prince of Mirkwood!"  
  
"You speak truth, but we have not the rightful Prince of Mirkwood with us, and so there is naught we can do but hope, and pray."  
  
"Maybe he has made it to Rivendell."  
  
"But would the lord of Imladris take him in?"  
  
"Even were Legolas truly a murderer Lord Elrond and his sons would take him in, but if I know him, he will never give up that easily. I wonder that I have heard naught of him all these years, but I assure you on my life he does not sit idle.  
  
"But we have not heard of him, Mirkwood falls deeper into shadows by the day, and Mahtan does nothing!"  
  
"If the Prince knows what the state of Mirkwood truly is, he knows he has the faith of his people. Something must happen, and soon."  
  
A sigh, but no retort. Thailden continued.  
  
"Do you know what remainder of the old men are still faithful to us?"  
  
"Almost all, but it's pathetic the way they cower in submission, simply on threats!"  
  
Thailden's voice was low and cold when he spoke again. "Perhaps, but Mahtan's threats are neither idle nor simple, and you can recall what happened to those that did not submit. They disappeared, along with their families. Mahtan knows elves would die before turning traitor, and so he lowers himself to aiming his threats at their families, and no elf could live with himself for that."  
  
"The others gave into bribes, promises of money and land."  
  
"That is true, and that show us which of the men will stand loyal to the end, those we can trust. But the ones that accept bribes will also sell out their fellows for the right price."  
  
"But in the meantime- Mahtan has no idea we are still loyal to the prince, and we cannot be caught talking this way. He'd have our heads, we had best return to our posts."  
  
"Indeed. We will speak more in time."  
  
And with that, the soldiers parted in opposite directions. Legolas remained concealed until the footsteps were well past, and then cautiously peered out. Thailden must have gone back the way he had come, for the elf walking away from him, now almost to the end of the hall, he did not recognize.  
  
As soon as the guard was out of sight, Legolas left the security of the doorway and ducked back into his own room, mind whirling.  
  
He didn't bother going back to the gate, but instead risked going over the garden walls, noticing this time how close the trees had grown over the years, allowing easy access to any intruder with any climbing skill.  
  
He dropped lightly to the other side, and was able to time the sentry rounds, also noticing that they walked now only in pairs. In his father's time the sentries had patrolled in groups of four, if only for their own safety.  
  
He made it into the trees, and paused, looking back as the full impact of what he had done hit him. He had gotten in and out of Mirkwood palace with absolutely no trouble. Which meant the same could be true for anyone else.  
  
Valar, had he been an assassin he could have murdered the king and escaped!  
  
And then the information he gained from Atar and Thailden- that alone sent his mind reeling. He could not leave his realm in the hands of a tyrant. He could not let his people down. He would not.  
  
- -   
  
Swiftly and silently he swept through the trees. They waved in the wind, swaying bending, speaking to him, to their prince. [i]A little further, guards ahead, more to the right, the way is clear.[/i] Stopping by the hollow tree where he had hidden his pack, he aimed for the place that always brought him peace. A secluded glade in the deepest part of Mirkwood forest, where no other Wood elves had ever dared to venture alone.  
  
It was hours later when he slipped into the clearing, the sounds of the gently trickling water and the wind reaching out to him, soothing him, offering him safety and comfort. He let himself drop beside the pool and trailed his fingers along the surface of the water, before stooping and drinking, unknowingly copying the movements of the ranger that had passed there not long before.  
  
He sighed and eased back onto his knees, satisfied. Birds sang peacefully in the swaying trees. the water sang on, undisturbed. A butterfly flitted into sight, alighting on a swaying reed and folding its wings. Legolas' gaze swept the clearing, his sharp eyes and ears taking in all these things.  
  
He instantly noticed the arrow.  
  
He stood, instantly on guard. Who had ventured this deep into Mirkwood? To the one place that had remained hidden and secret all of these years? Uneasiness swept his mind like a cloud, and he cautiously approached the arrow. It resembled his own so closely that for a moment he wondered if it might possibly be, but that was impossible... Wasn't it? He would never be as careless as to leave it for anyone to find, even in so safe a place.  
  
He reached out and easily pulled the shaft from the wood, a confused frown creasing his features as he fingered the cord hung on it. And there was- a message?  
  
None of this made any sense, but sure enough, a piece of parchment was rolled around the shaft. He dropped to a crouch and set the cord on the ground, and then unrolled the message.  
  
His eyes narrowed as he read.  
  
The letter offered thanks for something, and spoke of unpayable debts. The writer offered his aid- [i]"I am of the rangers of the North, as you know, and if ever I can repay your assistance, myself or one of my kin should be easily found in the town of Dunslow, seventy leagues to the west, near the Misty Mountains."[/i]  
  
The letter was signed: Arathorn son of Arador...  
  
Arathorn- the ranger he had saved from orcs. Legolas was, to say the least, surprised at the courtesy this man was showing him, an elf. He had no idea how the man had known he would find the message here, but right now, it was an answer to prayer.  
  
Thoughts and images flashed across his mind almost too quick for comprehension- his father's face, his uncle, Thailden and Atar speaking in he hallway-  
  
"We could never get the people to rally on our own, you know this!  
  
"But they would do so for the rightful Prince of Mirkwood!"  
  
Legolas reached down and gently took up the cord, on which a smooth silver stone was hung. One side of the stone was smooth and cool beneath his fingers, on the other, a star was etched into the stone.  
  
A slight grin spread across the elf's face as a plan began to form in his mind.  
  
- -   
  
Yes, I know! What is wrong with me! I thought I said this chapter was going to be long! I thought I did to, but- er, well... I don't know! I just don't know!!! But- this is just to say if anybody has been getting BORED, because, I agree, these first chapters have been really slow, things are  
going to dramatically speed up, starting NOW! With this chapter!!! claps Alright! It's funner to write anyways, lol! Also, sorry I haven't posted in... what- a week? Sheesh! But never fear! I have made good use of  
the time and written up the next chapter! Meaning I can post it just as  
soon as everyone reviews! So PLEASE review! Thanx a ton!  
  
Tev  
  
- -   
  
[b]forever-mortal:[/b] Thank you, I'm glad somebody likes it! :P lol, and do not worry, I most certainly plan to keep it coming!  
  
[b]Farflung:[/b] llol, the neck thing- good, glad you caught it- do keep that in mind for the future! And I think you called this one "a contemplative chapter before the storm." You are SO right! So much is going to happen in the next chapters alone that I wanted just one last little "quiet moment"! Maybe it was a little much...  
  
[b]Aura Carina[/b] Oh, do not worry- I specialize in cliffhangers, but for some reason this story so far hasn't really had any... well, then, I'll just have to make up for that with some really bad ones later on! evil grin Yeah, I agree on the move-the-action-along comment- as FarFlung said, this was just the "contemplative chapter before the storm," so get ready for the fireworks! The rest of the chapters are going to be PACKED! (Or, in my opinion! Lol)  
  
[b]From the Silent Planet[/b] Thank you, it's actually a lot of fun finding poems and lyrics to fit the chapter! lol  
  
[b]A Sly Fan[/b]: Hmm.. Is that a compliment? Lol, I know what you mean! :)  
  
[b]Legolas-gurl88:[/b] Geez, Troy sounds awesome! I can't wait to see it! And I will post again soon, lucky for you, because I already have the next chapter written! Yay!  
  
[b]Ancalimawen:[/b] Yes, there will be several sequels, If I have anything to say about it! This is going to eventually and with a little luck turn into a series of fanfictions! I have no idea what it will be called yet but I am thinking about it! 


	7. Colorblind

- -   
Chapter Seven  
- -   
Colorblind  
- -   
  
My eyes are open, but they don't see  
Sight has long been lost to me  
New people, places, things to see  
I can't see them, they can't see me  
Darkness calls with a brand new day  
My heart still weeps, so I'm fine that way  
My eyes aren't shut- Why can't I see?  
Sight has long been lost to me  
  
- -   
  
Dark, angry clouds rumbled threateningly up out of the east, bespeaking rain. The last tinge of stubborn gold faded from the skies, sucked over the hills to leave a bluish-grey dusk behind. Darkness fell like a curtain over the hills and valleys, cloaking the lands in a weird semi-darkness as the trees swayed and moaned in the violent wind.  
  
A scraggly forest stretched over the hills, ambling and rolling until it began to thin out and then halt entirely, it's edges crowning the ridges that overlooked the town of Dunslow, a large farming town nestled in the hills between Rivendell and the Misty Mountains.  
  
It was on one of these ridges that a lone figure stood, straight and tall, dark cloak and golden hair whipping about in the wind. Forest-green elvish clothes had been exchanged for dark-shaded garments of human make and style. The heavy, deep-brown cloak concealed the pair of twin elvish blades still strapped to his back, and the bow slung over his shoulder was shorter and heavier than the slender elvish one he usually bore. A pack was slung over the opposite shoulder and a long sword was at his side.  
  
Although his raiment was human in style, and a strip of dark cloth wound across his forehead to tie in the back, covering the delicately pointed ears, Legolas' long blonde tresses and fair features distinguished him as an elf. But even these things were soon disguised as he pulled his hood over his head and low over his eyes, concealing the bright strands like water on flame.  
  
Now his steel-blue eyes flashed hesitantly as he looked down upon the dwelling of men. He had left the forest of Mirkwood for the first time in years, and he did not much care for the realms of the mortal. Aside from that, Dunslow was notorious for it's animosity towards elves. He pushed these things aside now, however. He was here for one purpose and one purpose alone: To find the ranger, Arathorn son of Arador.  
  
- -   
  
Legolas was a matter of yards from the wall of the town when the storm struck, pouring down, unleashing all it's pent-up fury. And considering the weather, and the fact that it was almost dark anyway, the gate had been shut for the night when he reached it.  
  
Cursing fluently in Dwarvish, he crept along the wall, looking for a place even slightly lower where it might be easier to climb over. Finding none, he returned to the gate. He stood for a moment, as if staring at it hard enough would cause it to swing open.  
  
He shivered slightly as he squinted up at the angry black sky. Elves were not generally affected by cold and heat, but this was downright bone- chilling. On top of finding the ranger within the town, he might also find a warm corner of some inn to rest a while. His clothes were soaked, the thick mud sucked at his boots, and his hair was plastered to his face- all- in-all, a far from comfortable situation.  
  
Taking a few light running steps forward, Legolas leapt up and grasped the top of the wood, swinging himself swiftly and silently over and landing lightly in a crouch in the shadows on the other side.  
  
He remained there for a moment, still and poised as he peered into the darkness and listened intently. A flame flickered in the small low building built off the side of the gate and there were sounds of movement inside as the gatekeeper settled himself for the night.  
  
Rising slowly to his feet, Legolas moved along close to the building before stepping into the street in the wake of a group of boisterous travelers. It was amazing the speed with which the streets had emptied in the face of the storm. Those few souls still upon them were headed to a home or pub to wait out the weather for the night.  
  
Carts rumbled hurriedly past on the pavement, adding to the general noise as wind battered the wooden buildings, travelers shuffled through doorways and pushed past each other.  
  
The wind sent trees swaying dangerously; loose gates and fences clanged, and a sign over a large inn swayed and creaked wildly. It was towards this that Legolas made his way. The board was shaped like an arrow and painted black, hanging above an open doorway. Men exit and entered the building at a good pace, and golden firelight flooded the smooth wet street, mingled with the odors of ale, food and smoke.  
  
The elf paused just before the door, wondering once again what he was getting himself into. Here he was, at the end of his journey to Dunslow. But what now? Did he really expect to walk into the first inn he saw, pass himself off as a human and find the ranger? Could he really even expect help from the man? It took enough just to go through with asking the man for help, so what would happen if either he couldn't find him, or the human was just like every other man he had ever met? Rude, destructive, and haughty? Caring little for the interests of any but himself?  
  
Legolas leaned against the rough wooden wall, tracing the uneven knots and grainy surface with long, slender fingers as he absently observed the constant flow of traffic from the doorway. He knew what he would eventually do in the long run, he just needed to think it over one more time. At least if there was any manner of fault in his reasoning he would find it now and beforehand where it did him no harm.  
  
But what fault could be found in a plan only half-formed to begin with? the strange thought entered Legolas mind suddenly- so suddenly he stopped a moment to think on it.  
  
[i]How long have you been seeing in black and white? How long have you been colorblind? Blind to everything left that's good in this world?[/i]  
  
Legolas blinked. Wherever that thought had come from, it put things into perspective. There are good things, good people, left in this world. Your life is not all there is. It's barely one thread in Vaire's loom of time.  
  
[i]But even the smallest thread can be the most important if it does not think of itself as important.[i]  
  
Legolas' mouth actually fell open this time, and he spun around for the source of the voice. There was no-one.  
  
Straightening and fingering the hilt of the sword at his side, he slipped into the inn without further contemplation. Perhaps living without living companionship for so many years was finally taking affect on his mind.  
  
He willingly tuned his senses to block out the barrage of repulsive smells and odors that hit him full-force with every breath of musty, pungent air.  
  
Inns were crowded in the best of times, but on this particular night, this one was fairly teeming with masses of people. Legolas didn't realize he was standing in the doorway until he was shoved aside and towards the bar as a burly man barged into the inn.  
  
A glimpse of annoyance welled up in the elf's flashing eyes for a brief moment as he shot a disgusted glare towards the human, who did not see it. He turned his attention to the counter, where a bartender and his assistant were being bombarded with the calls and orders of the inn's occupants.  
  
"Sir-" Legolas tried as the innkeeper swept past, his round face red and shiny from the exertion, but cheery nonetheless. The man continued on, the elf's voice having been drowned out in the noise.  
  
"Pardon sir," He tried again, raising his voice a notch. When this still received no answer, he cleared his throat and tried again.  
  
"Innkeeper!" He fairly shouted above the clamor. Ironically, no-one thought this odd and it garnered the correct response, for within moments the man had bustled up towards him.  
  
"What might I do for you master?" The man chortled.  
  
Legolas hesitated, before casually speaking. "Know you if any of the rangers rest here this night?"  
  
The man did not seem to think the question odd, though Legolas had realized only after the fact that it must have been so.  
  
"Why, I don't believe so my good sir, at least not at the moment, although I dare say they're here often enough." The man rubbed one gnarled hand over a stubbly chin as he assumed an air of thoughtfulness and leaned over the counter as if to share a confidential secret.  
  
"I dare say," He repeated, "You stick around a bit and one of your friends may show up after all. Not many inns you folk see as this one, and one of the best it is! Don't think even you would keep out on a night like this."  
  
The man's attention was momentarily distracted as another patron called out to him, and he straightened. "Your table in the corner's open I'll wager, and I'll see your ale's brought around shortly." He added before bustling away.  
  
Legolas was caught off guard, to say the least. He had learned much valuable information in that one small conversation. This inn was frequented by the rangers. But the man thought he was one of them? He wasn't sure if that worked to his advantage, but something was telling him it did.  
  
Table in the corner... Legolas' eyes turned to rove about the room, finally lighting on a small and unobtrusive empty wooden table tucked away into a corner near the hearth.  
  
He stepped forward and around the counter, sidestepping several disoriented men headed for another beer, and towards the table.  
  
- -   
  
Vance watched with dark green eyes as the tall cloaked figure settled himself into the ranger's table in the corner. The figure moved with an easy grace and poise foreign even to the rangers.  
  
He glanced across the table to Kyrik. The youth's brown eyes locked with his, and he saw mirrored in them the same questions. Vance pressed his lips into a grim line and shrugged ever so slightly. The lad chewed his lip and turned his eyes back to the lithe figure across the inn.  
  
The youth was bright and serious, Vance thought as his gaze lingered on the young man's handsome, but rugged and worn features. He had been traveling with the hunters for three years now, and was an apt and quick learner. He had a future ahead of him.  
  
His eyes roamed to the older man sitting next to the boy. Osman was also watching the cloaked figure intently, his eyes narrowed, but he did not turn to either of his companions for several moments.  
  
When he did, his sea-grey eyes were intent and thoughtful.  
  
Kyrik was the first to speak. "Osman, he wasn't a ranger." He said quietly.  
  
"I know." Osman nodded.  
  
Vance's brow furrowed in a puzzled frown as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.  
  
"He looks like them, he dresses like them, he talks like them-" He ticked these things off on his fingers, and then cast another glance in the elf's direction. "But there's something different about him..."  
  
Vance trailed off, and Kyrik picked up. "But we've never seen him here before." The lad mused quietly without taking his eyes off the stranger.  
  
Osman nodded affirmatively. "Aye, that's true." He spoke, and then turned to Vance. "I'd a thought he was Arathorn when first he came in- he's about his height, maybe a bit more, but too slight. He spoke to the bartender over there and I knew for sure."  
  
"Hmm." Vance studied the stranger. "Did you hear what they said?"  
  
He already knew what the answer would be even as he voiced the question. Nothing definite could be heard in the inn at all over the patron's calls for food and ale, the boisterous laughter and raucous conversation unless you were right next to the person.  
  
Osman obviously knew this too, but he just shook his head.  
  
"Is he a ranger then, do you think?" Kyrik questioned.  
  
"I can't rightly say. Seems like it-" Osman replied. "But as you said Vance- there's something different there too."  
  
- -   
  
Legolas' sharp steel-blue eyes swept the inn, almost uncomfortably full of humans. The innkeeper doubtless knew what he was talking about when he had said there were no rangers presently in the inn, but he had to be sure for himself. Satisfied that the place held no more than the usual odd mixture of travelers, wayfarers and farmers, he settled in to relax and watch the door.  
  
He leaned back into the wall and stretched his long legs out towards the fire, letting the warmth of the inn be a comfort rather than a repulsion, as was his first and automatic reaction. Being somewhere warm showed him just how cold he really was, and for several moments he contemplated fighting his way through the throbbing mass of humans to the counter again, perhaps to find something warm to order.  
  
The thought became reality as he stood, deciding he might also be able to listen in a few conversations and learn something at the same time.  
  
He waited for more-or-less of a path to clear through the swarming patrons and then stepped forward, threading through tables and people to the counter. A moment's observation showed an empty counter space and he headed for it. Leaning his elbows on the wood, he gratefully accepted the mug of warm sloshing liquid pushed his way.  
  
Thirsty as he was, he could not help sniffing the amber liquid cautiously, before gingerly taking a sip. The liquid was beautifully warm, and curiously enough, not bad at all as far as flavor went. Nothing compared to the superb wines of the halls of Thranduil, but he wasn't going to complain.  
  
- -   
  
Kyrik stood and slipped out of his chair, stretching his arms and clapping a hand on Vance's shoulder. "I'm up for something warm-" He spoke. "Can I get you two anything?"  
  
Osman only grunted, and Vance shook his head. He watched as Kyrik stepped up to the counter, and realized the stranger had also left his corner and had approached the bar. The innkeeper's assistant pushed a warm mug of mead into his hands, and Vance watched incredulously as the elf examined the drink before taking a testing sip.  
  
What kind of ranger was this that acted as if this warm and inviting inn was an uncomfortable and unfamiliar place? He glanced across at Osman, and could only wonder of the same thoughts were spinning through his mind behind that intimidating mask.  
  
They would just have to wait and see...  
  
- -   
  
Legolas moved slightly aside as another man approached the counter and loudly proclaimed his desired order to the bartender. Legolas vaguely wondered how the bartender handled everything.  
  
The elf's eyes swept over the motley crowd, coming to rest on an obvious fight going on in the opposite corner from where he had been sitting. Both men sprang angrily to their feet. One Legolas recognized as the burly man who had pushed past him earlier.  
  
Blows were dealt, drawing a fair amount attention from the room's other occupants, and then the burly man grabbed his smaller companion by the tunic and heaved him clear across the room.  
  
Legolas sidestepped as the man crashed into the counter and then dropped unceremoniously to the floor where the elf had stood not moments before. He raised himself on his hands and knees, cursing loudly. Legolas hesitated, and then offered the man a hand up.  
  
In an instant, the man had angrily hit the offer away and had a dagger in his hand, his rage turned to the person that happened to be in front of him. And that was Legolas.  
  
Almost the entire inn had turned it's attention to the man and elf now, some of the more timid ones backed into their corners, fearfully eyeing the dagger in the man's hand, others rooting for one or the other as if the scene were a contest. Legolas took a step back, hands raised in a gesture of peace as the man heaved himself up and fixed blazing eyes on the elf.  
  
"I wish you no harm-" Legolas tried, but got no further.  
  
The man hissed and lunged, his blade meeting empty air as the elf moved aside, sending the human plunging to the floor yet again. He scrambled up and turned. Legolas once again let the man dive past him as he moved, almost casually out of his path, but the human had expected this and did not fall to the floor, but whirled and advanced again, trying to back the elf against the counter.  
  
- -   
  
Vance had shifted to directly across from Osman so they could speak easier, blocking both figure's view of the brawl taking place behind them. They were speaking intently when the hunter realized he no longer had the older mans attention. The bushy grey eyebrows were furrowed as he leaned to the side, trying to see past Vance.  
  
Vance turned in his seat as well. It took about two seconds for the scene before his eyes to register, and then he sprang to his feet in alarm, his hand flying automatically to his sword hilt. Osman stood as well, but placed a restraining hand on the man's arm, with a look that clearly said "watch and wait". Even so, the man could see the concern in the hunters eyes as they looked on, watching silently as the elf defended himself easily from the men that were ganging up on him.  
  
Vance watched in amazement as Legolas spun, struck, dove with an amazing catlike grace, speed, and agility, as more joined the brawl, most intent on the elf that had aroused the fight. He had no idea who the man was, or that he was in fact an elf, and so the skill and grace of the tall, cloaked figure surprised him.  
  
Almost automatically he leaned towards Osman. "My money's on the ranger-" he muttered. Osman nodded.  
  
The elf had not yet pulled out a weapon, still trying to appease the raging men attacking him, but he soon had no choice as several started to find swords and daggers to use in the fight. The burly man Legolas had recognized from earlier had now joined in the fight, seemingly forgetting all about who he had been fighting not moments before.  
  
Legolas whipped his long white blades from their sheathes on his back, remaining with his back to the counter as he concentrated on blocking the blows only, not wanting to have the blood of these men on his hands, though he could easily have killed them at any given moment.  
  
Strong arms locked around his neck from behind, cutting off his airway. He dropped his knives as he struggled to pry away at the death lock that was suffocating him. The grip did not loosen, and Legolas, thinking fast, kicked out viciously at the men in front of him, who, seeing their chance, were advancing on the now-unarmed elf. He then heaved forward, pulling his attacker off of the counter and flipping the man straight over his head and into the crowd.  
  
Finding himself free for the moment, Legolas scooped up his fallen knives, gasping for breath, and dashed to the stairs leading to the rooms above, blocking and shoving as he fought his way to the first steps. He reached them and sprinted upwards, several enraged humans right on his heels.  
  
He rounded a bend when he reached the top into a long hallway, running almost to the end before throwing himself into a door at random, wincing as his shoulder slammed into the wood. It shattered inwards, and he landed on his shoulder once more. He was up in an instant and he made for the window, throwing his hands over his head seconds before he crashed straight through the glass.  
  
For a sickening moment he had the odd sensation of falling through space, but had the presence of mind to curl his head inwards moments before his body hit the wet stone of the street two stories down- hard. He landed on the side of his shoulder, not halting his forward momentum as he kept going and rolled smoothly to his feet.  
  
He could hear astonished and outraged cries from the window above, and then the sounds of noisy pursuit pouring from the door of the inn. He kept running, a bit surprised at how quickly they were able to follow him.  
  
He sped down a side street, skidding to a halt as he ran smack into a longing group of guards, clearly surprising them as much as they had surprised him.  
  
He twisted away, taking the moment of surprise to leap up and catch hold of a protruding support beam high above his head. In instants, the mob behind him and the guards had met, only to find that their quarry had disappeared.  
  
- -   
  
Kyrik had dashed out of the inn as soon as the elf had disappeared up the stairs. The only ways out of the rooms above were the two large windows, and he had expected the stranger to try to use one. He was not prepared however, when the elf came crashing through the glass.  
  
A brief glimpse of gold flashed as the figure rolled to his feet and sprinted into the darkness without breaking stride, but the boy dismissed it. At the moment, he was so amazed with what he had seen that he just wanted to find Osman and Vance.  
  
He was deterred from going back into the inn, however, by the flood of people that poured from the doorway, now heedless of the rain and storm. He soon spotted them among the crowd and pulled them aside.  
  
"Did you see that?" He asked Vance as he tugged him by the sleeve to the side.  
  
"No, but we heard it." Osman's muttered voice answered for Vance.  
  
"That was amazing!" Vance spewed. "I've never seen anyone fight like that."  
  
For many minutes, the street was crowded with people, but this did not last long. Most of them seemed to suddenly realize it was still raining and storming and headed back for the inn, as did the mob of eager spectators that had followed the elf and his opponents.  
  
Osman scoffed as the burly man and his compatriots appeared back at the inn, their faces as dark as the sky. They did not seem interested in going quietly back to their drinks however, and soon emerged a moment later with long, heavy swords at their sides.  
  
Vance scowled as he watched the men disappear up a side street. He turned to look at Osman, who wore the same expression as Vance and Kyrik, who were both looking to him. His shoulder-length silver-grey hair stuck to his face in damp strands, accenting his dramatically sloping eyebrows, prominent chin, and weathered, wrinkled face.  
  
They were the only people on the streets now, and he turned to them as Vance expectantly drew his sword. Kyrik eyed him questioningly, his hand on his own sword. The old hunter's face broke into a rare grin. He finally chuckled wryly, and drawing his own sword, waved the others after him.  
  
Vance laughed and headed after Osman as they followed the men. He turned to Kyrik with gleaming eyes. "Just to keep things even!" He whispered, garnering a grin from the youth.  
  
- -   
  
Legolas knew he was being followed long before the men came into sight. The heavy breathing, noisy footsteps, and hushed whispers to each other to "keep quiet" helped the elf, even over the sound of the rain, distinguish the size and number of the trackers.  
  
Three of them, good sized, but not impossibly so. It would be no difficult feat to take them, especially since the storm and rain would likely disorientate them.  
  
Legolas ducked into a side street- not that it was any less deserted than the main street at that hour, but it was a bit lighter there. Even he had trouble seeing through the darkness in the rain.  
  
Men! he thought. They disgusted him. He could not believe they were following him to kill him for no reason other than that he had been present during the fight, and seeking someone to blame, they had laid it upon the stranger.  
  
Because one of them attacked me, now they want to kill me?  
  
Anger kindled inside of him as he silently slipped his twin blades out and held them ready over his shoulders, pressing his body close up against the side of a building. He un-consciously shifted his grip on the smooth white handles as the stealthy brush of boots on the rain-slicked cobblestones came closer to him.  
  
Now!- with deadly speed and lethal precision, Legolas spun away from the wall and around the edge of the building, his blades cutting the air in a deft arc as metal clashed against metal and then caught the unsuspecting man in the stomach.  
  
The man stumbled forward with a gasp, his blade clattering to the pavement as he gripped his stomach. Within the space of a second, Legolas knew something was wrong. This was not one of the men that had been following him....  
  
- -   
  
There! A truly long chapter! As promised! 10 pages long, three new characters, the priceless tavern brawl, and a cliffie to boot! Is everybody happy now? Really? Can you please let me your thoughts know then? Don't worry, I am not Saruman trying to pry the deepest darkest secrets from the depths of your soul! I'm a 14 year old kid sitting on her laptop on a sagging couch in California staring glumly at the screen because no-one likes my story!!! WHAT IN MIDDLE-EARTH HAPPENED TO ALL THE REVIEWERS!!!?? Has the second rise of Sauron happened without me? Am I really that bad?  
  
Yea, nay, have-no-say? The button at the bottom titled "SUBMIT REVIEW" actually comes in very handy when you get the urge to tell me you loved/hated my chapter!!!!  
  
So unless you have absolutely no idea how to use your mouse, CLICK IT! Pretty please!? How's this- (friendly persuasion): Cupcakes to all reviewers!!!!  
  
- -   
  
Thanks so much to Fiery Flames of Sapphire, Knux the Gaurdian, (a.k.a. Veaneaquende), forever-mortal, and farflung for reviewing! Because you were the only ones to review this chap, you all get special, chocolate cupcakes! Yay! lol 


	8. Shaken

- -   
        Chapter Eight  
         - -   
        Shaken  
         - -   
  
        You're a ticking clock in a timeless land  
        Holding on too long without any hands  
        And the stars are falling down around you now  
        In the rain there are wonders left to touch  
        So you're reaching out  
  
        So the flowers grow and bloom in the desert sand  
        And the crystal tears they fall and flower in a barren land  
        'Till you feel the sunlight shining on your skin  
        And all that once was lost in you is alive again  
  
        Michelle Tumes  
  
         - -   
  
"No! Kyrik!!!" Legolas vaguely heard the desperate cry from farther up the street.  
  
Legolas' eyes went wide and he froze as the man fell to his knees. It all happened so horribly fast... Something suddenly slammed into him and knocked him backwards into the wall. The air rushed painfully from his lungs as he slammed into the wood, but he was too horror-stricken to protest as his arms were pinned to his sides.  
  
He stared in shock at the man on the ground- nay, not a man- a boy. Valar, he had just stabbed a young boy! Another man was kneeling beside the youth, frantically trying to staunch the bleeding stomach wound.  
  
Legolas was snapped back into the present as an angry voice growled in his ear. "If you've killed him- I will make you wish you had never been born."  
  
Legolas felt sick. He didn't bother to point out that he already wished he hadn't been born. He could hear his heart pounding loudly in his ears. What if he had killed the boy?  
  
"Eru, have mercy, let him live!" He breathed automatically in elvish. The man behind him twisted his arm painfully.  
  
"Shut up, or I'll shut you up!" The man hissed venomously. "Do you know what you've done!?"  
  
Legolas shook his head sorrowfully. "I did not mean-" The man growled and pushed a knee into Legolas' stomach, then forced him to his knees.  
  
"Vance!" They both looked up as the man kneeling beside the wounded boy spoke sharply. "Leave him be! This was not his intention."  
  
Vance gaped, but loosened his hold on the elf. Legolas stared at the older man, hardly daring to believe his ears. He had thought for sure they would want to kill him. And he deserved it. He remained kneeling, his breath hitching painfully as he stared at the boy's pale face and closed eyes.  
  
"Does he live?" Legolas whispered finally.  
  
"Aye," the older man nodded as he shifted the boy into his arms and stood. "We need to get him somewhere dry though-"  
  
"Here!" Vance had approached a doorway and shoved on it. It was locked. Stepping back, he forcefully rammed his shoulder into the wood and it gave with a protesting creak and a snap. The room was empty, the building un- inhabited. The older man motioned with his head for Legolas to enter the room, and then followed. Vance shut the door as the older man gently laid the boy on the floor.  
  
"Just try something ranger- give me one more reason to knock your head off." The man growled warningly.  
  
Legolas' shock had worn off and he quietly lit a candle, abandoned in it's holder by the door. Vance watched him closely, as if expecting him to try and pull something else and try to kill them as well. It was now that Legolas realized he had left his blades where he had dropped them in the streets. He was not as comfortable with a sword as he was with his blades, but just as skilled. It would have to work if something happened.  
  
The room was dead silent. The elf silently offered the older man his spare cloak from his pack for the boy, and the man silently accepted it. Legolas found himself desperately wishing he had herbs or some other manner of healing supplies in his pack, but he carried none. He had traveled light for far too long to carry anything that he did not deem a necessity.  
  
Man and elf watched in silent anticipation as the older man worked over the youth. Legolas drew in a sharp breath as he saw the amount of blood soaking through the boy's tunic and the cloak under his still body. The only thing that kept them from panicking was the steady rise and fall of the thin chest, the shallow breaths that passed between the partially open lips.  
  
Legolas could tell just by looking at him that the boy was not doing well. The older man's face was the picture of intense concentration as he tried to staunch the bleeding, and after a moment Legolas spoke softly.  
  
"Please- perhaps I can help him- I have some skill in healing." This statement held more meaning than either human knew as they looked towards him, for Legolas knew that given the choice he could pour his own life strength into another, although he himself might not survive it. But if that was what it took, then that was what he would do.  
  
Osman searched Legolas' eyes with his own as if weighing the truth and sincerity of his words. He finally smiled slightly, and moved aside with a curt nod. Vance did not look very happy with the idea, but said nothing as Legolas moved to kneel beside the boy.  
  
Legolas' stomach was doing flip-flops as he gently wiped the blood away from the wound. He placed one slender hand on the boy's forehead. He could feel the lad's spirit fading, but he knew he could not let it go.  
  
Legolas placed both hands on the boy's chest and closed his eyes in concentration. Reality seemed to swirl around him as he let his own spirit slip into a world between life and death. He could feel the presence of another, and he silently called to the boy's spirit.  
  
He could feel the dangerous pull of darkness, more potent and lethal the longer one stayed in its presence. Legolas knew the boy must feel it as well, and realized there was much the lad still had to live for if he had resisted it this long. For this was what decided fate in this other world- you had to choose if you felt there was more peace for your spirit in death, or in life. This lad's spirit had a strong love of life and was not yet ready to leave it. He was fighting death, but he was weakening. Legolas realized with a rush of cold fear that he had nearly given in.  
  
Legolas silently let his own strength seep into the boy's body through his hands, even knowing that if he gave too much he would not have the strength to go back himself. Right now, going back without the life he had nearly taken was not an option. He was going to make sure the boy lived whether he himself did or not.  
  
The other spirit felt him there now. And was responding. Unquestioningly, Legolas freely poured out his spirit. The boy was fighting again. He was struggling back towards the light, his movements sluggish and slowed, like someone in water. Legolas knew he himself was dangerously close to the point of no return now, but the boy needed more. Legolas gave it. He felt the darkness wrapping around his soul even as he watched the boy's break free. He was safe. And now Legolas had taken his place.  
  
- -   
  
Osman watched, eyes narrowed as the elf closed his eyes, head bowed. For several moments, the room was dead silent. Kyrik's eyes moved rapidly under closed lids, and the elf's breathing became heavy and labored, his face drawn and intense.  
  
Both Vance and Osman knew something was happening, for they could feel the energy vibrating in the room. Osman watched in alarm as the ranger's face grew deadly pale, his hands shaking slightly, as sweat beaded on his forehead. At the same time, Kyrik's face regained its color, and his breathing slowed and deepened as if in sleep.  
  
The elf tensed, and his breaths quickened. Osman was seriously considering breaking him out of his trance, but suddenly the other jerked forward with a gasp and blinked rapidly. Osman put a steadying hand on his shoulder and the elf looked up at him with wide eyes. Confusion flickered in his steel- blue orbs and he blinked, as if trying to remember where he was, and then sighed as relief flood his face.  
  
"He lives-" The elf spoke quietly, swallowing and looking back to the boy. Kyrik's face was once again its normal color and the lines of pain had fled his features.  
  
"What were you doing?!" Vance spouted, eyes wide. Osman looked back to him, remembering for the first time he also had been watching the entire thing. He looked as alarmed as Osman had felt, but neither answered him.  
  
Legolas sighed deeply and moved back so the older man could see to finishing cleaning the wound, feeling too drained to even speak, let alone do it himself. Osman understood and reached for the bandages Vance had brought forth.  
  
After what seemed an eternity, Osman was tying off the bandages and wiping his hands on the cloak with a relieved sigh.  
  
Vance and Legolas had both assumed kneeling positions on the floor by the wall, since the room boasted only a small table and a small rickety chair no-one felt like using. He almost smiled as he saw the strained face of the elf. He knew now, beyond a doubt, that it had not been his intention to stab Kyrik.  
  
The aged grey eyes of the older hunter were deceptive, for they took in much and missed literally nothing. He somehow knew that the elf had very nearly exchanged his life for the boy's, and he felt a new deep, respect for this quiet ranger had at first thought the same as Vance when he had seen what had happened, but his mind logically reasoned that it would have happened to anybody, and that the stranger would have been well able to overpower Vance if he had had half-a-mind to. In fact, the ranger looked almost as worried as if it had been his own brother lying before them.  
  
He answered the silent question in both pairs of eyes. "He will be fine. It was not very deep, and he should awake momentarily."  
  
Man and elf sighed audibly, and then glanced at each other at the sound.  
  
Vance looked almost... regretful, Legolas noticed with some surprise. He had not expected any form of kindness from the human after what he had done to the boy, presumably a friend or brother. The other man immediately looked away however, as if he was not ready to put aside his anger so easily over something so serious.  
  
Legolas felt normal again and knew he had to speak. "Forgive me, I truly did not realize the boy was there, I had thought he was-"  
  
Osman held up a hand to silence him. "I know- I do not blame you for this. I am sorry things turned out this way, but no permanent harm was done. The wound will pain him, but heal quickly. He lives."  
  
Legolas swallowed. "If there is anything at all I can do to make things right-"  
  
Osman shook his head slightly. "Nay, my friend, this was not your doing. In truth, 'twas us who had followed you to help you. You were also followed from the inn by several of the men you fought. This is as good a place as any to meet them."  
  
Osman's voice was strained with worry and relief, but held neither malice nor anger, and Legolas looked at him in surprise.  
  
"To help me?" The elf echoed quietly. "After what I have done- you still...?"  
  
Osman smiled faintly and clapped Legolas' shoulder with a sigh. "We hold you no ill-will. Any man could have made the same mistake, and now, thanks to you the lad will live. Indeed, I must beg your pardon for the rude way Vance acted a moment ago- He was blinded in his temper."  
  
Vance snorted and growled, but still did not speak. Osman cleared his throat warningly and they both looked to him. "Since we've settled down for a friendly chat, perhaps we should introduce ourselves: The boy is Kyrik, and I-" He leaned forward and extended his hand to Legolas. "I am Osman."  
  
Legolas shook his hand gingerly.  
  
"And you, my friend?" Osman queried. Legolas had almost forgotten he was also supposed to give a name, and he hesitated briefly as he racked his brain for the name he had chosen.  
  
"Come ranger- we are not guards or soldiers, your secrets are safe with us! Why, be you some criminal or outcast that you fear to speak your own name?" Osman joked.  
  
Legolas forced a genuine smile as the light comment struck hard. "Nay- forgive me, I was merely thinking. My name is Teveldin."  
  
"A right elvish name for a ranger is that-" Osman grunted. "But I suppose that's what comes of bein' around Rivendell and such."  
  
Legolas was getting nervous. As friendly as these men were, he did not appreciate the way they mentioned elves, and he was not quite sure yet whether he could trust them. He was spared changing the subject, however, when a sharp crack sounded against the door.  
  
Legolas, Vance and Osman all leapt to their feet, spinning towards the door as it shattered inwards. Hands flew automatically to their sides for their swords as five huge men appeared in the doorway, some brandishing clubs and other knives and swords.  
  
Between Vance and Osman, Legolas held his sword forward defensively.  
  
The man in front was tall and broad-shouldered, dark of hair and face, wielding a heavy club and an angry sneer. "Stand off-" He snarled, "Our business is with the bloody ranger, and him alone. It don't concern you."  
  
"I think your business does concerns us-" Osman stepped forward. "What do you want with him?" His voice was cold and firm and left no room for questioning.  
  
"We want these dirty rangers to stay out of our business and quit making trouble- go back to where they came from."  
  
Legolas stiffened, and involuntarily made a surprised sound in the back of his throat, stepping forward to put a hand on Osman's shoulder.  
  
"If they want to settle something with me, then let them." He growled stiffly as he leveled a cold stare on the man that had spoken.  
  
Osman tilted his head in acknowledgment and stepped back, but Vance only looked at Legolas in surprise. Legolas walked past him, sword in hand, but lowered, and stood tall in front of the man. The human was tall and stocky, but the elf appeared powerful and intimidating before him as the steel-blue eyes flashed and he tilted his chin upwards.  
  
The human faltered and took a step backwards, his confidence wavering as uncertainty flashed briefly through his eyes. Legolas arched an eyebrow and the man quickly snarled as he regained his composure. His companions stepped backwards into the street, and he followed them as Legolas stepped forward.  
  
Vance stood a little behind Osman in the doorway, constantly shifting his iron grip on the blade in his hand. The rain was pouring down with a vengeance, but Legolas ignored it completely as the two figures backed out into the street, the other thugs hanging back in the shadows, obviously amused at what they saw as a pointless fight.  
  
"No weapons-" Legolas said quietly. The man stared at him keenly for a moment as if sizing him up, and then with a mocking laugh, threw down the club. In one swift movement Legolas slid off his bow and quiver and, without taking his steely gaze off the man before him, tossed them a little ways away.  
  
He also removed the sword and added it to the pile of weapons, and then flexed his fingers and arms in preparation. The human slowly stepped to the side, and Legolas followed suit, moving lightly on the balls of his feet as they circled each other. The rain and pitch blackness around them made it harder to see and hear, but Legolas had no doubt who would walk away from this fight.  
  
He circled, always keeping his piercing eyes locked on the man's own dark orbs. Had he known how uncomfortable this really made the human, who did a fair job of not showing it, he would not have looked directly at him, for he wanted no unfair advantage over his opponent.  
  
Predictably, the man struck first. With a growl that told Legolas precisely when and how the man was going to move, the human lunged.  
  
In less than an instant, Legolas had sprung away. The human was far from dull however, and after observing Legolas' basic fighting techniques in the pub, had anticipated this. As such, his rush was controlled but powerful, rather than headlong, and he was able to spin quickly back towards the elf.  
  
Legolas took the offensive now, giving the man no time to recover as he rained controlled and precise blows upon him. The man falteringly blocked them, trying to strike in between, but although he might have been stronger, the elf more than outweighed him in speed, skill and agility, and within seconds the elf had the human laid out flat on his back.  
  
But the man's companions were not about to let this excuse for violence slip out of their hands, or let a "ranger" get the best of them, and now the real fight began.  
  
Without turning Legolas brought his arm up and his fist above his head, feeling the satisfying crunch as his fist connected with flesh. He spun, his hand twisting into a knife-like blade and striking the second man square in the back of the neck. The man cried out and toppled forward, and within a moment, Legolas' knee came up to catch him in the midsection. Another precise blow aimed for his face sent the human reeling, blood pouring from his nose and a split lip.  
  
Legolas turned without even waiting for the first man to fall to block several powerful punches from another.  
  
Legolas moved with precision and control, striking to deter and incapacitate, not to kill, but his human opponents had no such intent. As he fought off double attacks from two men, he heard Vance or Osman- he couldn't tell which through the chaos- call out a warning. He ducked on instinct, and a heavy spiked club cracked close over his head, missing its intended target and catching another human square in the nose.  
  
The unfortunate man dropped with a howl, and Legolas spun to the club wielder. A powerful kick to the stomach sent the man doubling over, and in one deft movement Legolas had gripped the club, twisted it out of the surprised man's hand, and rammed the butt end into his face.  
  
As the man fell, unconscious, Legolas dropped the club and spun, dropping to one knee and to the side to avoid the next man's blow. As the man was caught off balance by the momentum of his swing, Legolas crouched low to the ground and stuck out in a powerful sweeping kick that knocked the man to the ground.  
  
Legolas spun to his feet and whirled, ready for the next attack, but to his surprise, there was no-one left. Four of the men lay on the ground in the mud and rain, out cold, and the fifth groaned slightly as he tried to get to his feet. Legolas didn't try to stop him, breathing hard and stepping back as the man stumbled away into the shadowy darkness.  
  
Legolas breathed in deeply as he tried to slow the rushing adrenaline pumping through his veins like fire. The touch on his shoulder caused him to jump.  
  
"Are you alright?" Osman asked quietly. Legolas nodded slightly, relieved that that was all. He glanced beyond Osman to the doorway, where Vance stood, his eyes wide, sword hanging limp and useless at his side. If he had been impressed with the elf's fighting skills back at the tavern, he was gaping in outright amazement now.  
  
Legolas nodded again as he assured himself of the same fact. "And you?" He questioned Osman.  
  
Osman held up his hands. "We did not take part in the fight. It was all you my friend, and truthfully I do not believe these men will be bothering you, or any ranger for that matter, again any time soon."  
  
Both Osman and Legolas turned as Vance found his voice again and swore colorfully. "Where in Middle-Earth did you learn to fight like that!?" He spewed incredulously.  
  
Osman grinned and shook his head as he and Legolas started back towards the door. Vance moved aside so Legolas could enter, and he answered the man as Osman followed and shut the door behind him.  
  
"I learned in many different places-" he said softly, letting his mind drift back slightly but keeping his words closely guarded. "Where I once lived, shadows and darkness fell upon the lands, and I could do little about it but fight it with all I had. I have trained myself to fight since I could lift a blade, to shoot since I could string a bow, and to ride since I could walk. There was no room for those idle or useless, regardless of rank, status, birth or age. Enemies do not differentiate, and neither could I afford to."  
  
Legolas' eyes took on a slightly hazy, far-off look as he spoke that Osman's keen eye did not miss, but he said nothing. As he finished, the elf suddenly seemed to realize he had said too much as he snapped back into reality.  
  
"Bu I do not believe I learned your name-" He said in attempt to change the subject as he turned to Vance.  
  
Vance laughed and spoke. "Indeed- you are right. It must have slipped my mind." He stood, and with a dramatic bow, he said with a flourish, "Vancaunimar-" He grinned and dropped the formal tone. "But people find it more convenient to shorten it to Vance when shouting at me."  
  
This garnered a bellowing laugh from Osman and a smile from Legolas, that was far more than it seemed. His eyes shone with joy and relief, for Vance no longer spoke towards him with the wary coldness of before, but with a new respect and brotherly camaraderie that made Legolas' heart leap with the realization that whatever test had been presented, he had passed and had been accepted.  
  
He looked to Kyrik now, who lay on the floor with his hands folded across his chest, as if in a deep sleep. He looked back to Osman, who caught the questioning glance and moved to kneel beside the boy.  
  
He placed one hand on his forehead, and then sighed. "It is only a matter of time before he awakes-" He was cut off as the boy sighed slightly as if on queue.  
  
Osman leaned over him and touched his shoulder, and Kyrik stirred and breathed in deeply. A moment later the deep grey-brown eyes fluttered open, and he blinked in disorientation and confusion. "Osman?"  
  
Vance was at the boy's side instantly like an old mother hen, expressing his joy and relief that the boy was still living. Legolas hung back, nervous and guilty all over again. Kyrik smiled up at Vance weakly.  
  
"Vance, I really am fine...." His voice trailed off and his face melted into a frown. "The ranger! Where is he? What happened to him?"  
  
"Teveldin? Right here-" Osman turned to Legolas with a nod. Legolas was surprised for the hundredth time that day when the boy's face broke into a grin, rather than anger, hate, fear, or another of the many negative emotions the elf had expected to see displayed there.  
  
"Are you alright?" Kyrik asked.  
  
Legolas' mouth fell open, much to Vance's amusement. "Am I alright?" He echoed incredulously. "I was not the one stabbed!"  
  
Kyrik chuckled. "Its nothing-" He began. Vance snorted, but Kyrik ignored this and turned with wide, searching eyes to Legolas.  
  
"I've never seen anyone fight like that..." He said quietly.  
  
Legolas only smiled, since he could think of no answer to that. Vance spoke up now. "Well Kyrik, it seems you finally have your first 'battle wound.'"  
  
Kyrik laughed slightly, and Legolas swallowed.  
  
"Forgive me, Kyrik, I did not mean to hurt you." He said softly.  
  
Kyrik looked towards him in surprise. "Of course you didn't! I don't hold you responsible. You thought I was one of them- Osman is always trying to tell me not to rush into things, I suppose I learned the hard way. And in any case, I am still alive." The boy said assuringly, and then he frowned slightly as if in remembrance. "I had the strangest dream- or vision, or something."  
  
Legolas tensed slightly and shifted, both from Kyrik's words and an uneasy feeling gnawing at his mind. "Those men will not be out long-" He finally spoke. "It might be best to leave this place."  
  
Osman nodded, Vance didn't say a word, and Kyrik looked confused.  
  
"What did I miss, Vance?" He asked quietly.  
  
Vance shrugged and tilted his head towards Legolas in indication. "Not much. Your ranger friend here had another little hand-to-hand brawl. Times five. That's all."  
  
Kyrik's eyebrows shot up. "Five?" He echoed questioningly.  
  
Legolas shrugged the question off and paced a few steps. Osman helped Kyrik stand up, and Vance gathered up the weapons. Kyrik was able to walk, albeit somewhat stiffly, and within moments Legolas and Vance had the room back exactly as they had found it.  
  
"Where will you go, Teveldin?" Vance asked as he held the door open as Osman exit, supporting Kyrik where he needed it. Legolas didn't answer. He had not really thought about this, but he was saved from answering by Kyrik.  
  
"Why don't you come with us?" The boy asked, looking towards Osman. "We were in town in the first place for another man to join our hunting party- and I don't think you'll find much welcome in the town now."  
  
Osman didn't say anything against this, and looked to Legolas for an answer. Legolas thought fast. He didn't want to appear suspicious or ungrateful, but he knew he had no time to waste.  
  
"I-" he stammered slightly, but then Vance spoke again.  
  
"Oh, come on ranger. We could use your skills, and we may even run into some of your friends on the way north."  
  
Legolas stopped. "On the way north?" He asked.  
  
Osman nodded. "We're headed up towards Mirkwood, and the rangers- all but you, are traveling up there around now, I'd assume."  
  
Legolas hesitated for only one moment more. "Very well. I will go with you." Kyrik grinned broadly, and Osman nodded.  
  
"Good." Said the older man, "I was hoping you'd say that. Will you come to the camp outside of town with us for the night? I daresay it will be safer there, and we head out first thing in the morning."  
  
Legolas smiled, genuinely this time. "If that is well..."  
  
"Of course ranger-" Vance grinned. "It?s more then well, as long as you don't make a habit of using live targets."  
  
Legolas kept a serious expression. "Not often."  
  
Vance chuckled and moved to helps support Kyrik once more.  
  
"And Vance-" Legolas hesitated, and they all stopped to look up at him.  
  
"You all have my thanks."  
  
Osman only grunted, but his lips turned upwards in a small smile. Vance and Kyrik grinned, and Vance spoke again as they headed out into the darkness.  
  
"Don't mention it. You can always pay me back later."  
  
Reviewer Responses!  
  
There everybody, that's what I'm looking for! Keep up with those reviews! Sorry about any typos or whatever in this story, I'm not on my own comp and my word-checker thing-a-bob decided to eat my story and spit out a blank disc! Technology these days....  
  
othrilis: Thank you, I'm glad you like it! No, this story is more about Arathorn than Aragorn, mainly to set the base for Aragorn and Legolas' friendship, but all the stories I have lined up, (six, I think) star Aragorn, Legolas, and the twins- my absolute fave LotR characters! But the twins, come to think of it, actually do come into this one!  
  
Sapphire's Angel: Here's the next chapter, as requested! Sorry to keep y'all waiting!  
  
Sapphire Cat: Thank You, for all your reviews! :D  
  
farflung: Okay okay, so Legolas could never be a human if he tried! This is a fanfiction world here, play along! Lol  
  
Veboriel: Yes, the review showed up! Thankees! Actually, those cookies sound really good! Trade? Deal!  
  
A Sly Fan: Here you go- passes out cupcakes  
  
WolfCub2668: Thanks! The chapters are getting ready to roll!  
  
Knux the Guardian: Hey Lauren, Thanks for reviewing! And yes, I am hurrying up the chapters!  
  
forever-mortal: Thank you, and the chapters are now lengthening considerably!  
  
Aura Carina: Hey, great to hear from you! Sorry I haven't been on CoE or LL in forever, I'm having both computer and family-grounding problems, so feel free to move Tev around if you need to! I'll try to PM you soon...  
  
Gozilla: Thanks! Here's your cupcakes!  
  
Mystwing: Sorry, the cliffhangers have officially begun! :D  
  
Child of the stars1: Thank you! Here is your chocolate cupcake and your answers! Vance, Kyrik, and Osman are key characters in this story, so there will be a lot more of them! 


	9. Of Athelas And Archery

- -

Of Athelas and Archery

- -

Hello everybody! Yes, believe it or not—I live!!! Sorry about taking so long for this update: I've actually had this written up for a couple of weeks but only recently got my comp fixed—so here you are! Enjoy!

- -

Separated

I cut myself clean

From a past that comes back

In the darkest of dreams

Been apprehended

By a spiritual force

And a grace to replace

All the me I divorced

- -

--Dc Talk--

- -

The morning dawned clear and cold. Vance pulled himself groggily from the warmth of his tent as the skies first began to lighten. He thrust aside the tent flap, willing himself not to shiver as the cold morning air contrasted starkly with the warmth of the tent he shared with the still-slumbering Kyrik.

He froze as the sight before him appeared out of place in his mind, and it took him a moment as he sub-consciously registered the events of the night before. The stranger stood at the edge of camp, tall and still as a statue. His legs were braced slightly apart, and his arms folded across his chest as he gripped his bow lightly. His eyes were fixed on a distant point over the horizon and beyond Vance's sight, and after a moment's observation the man shook his head and made his way towards the aroma of food emanating from the center of camp.

Legolas turned his head only slightly as his keen ears detected the man's footsteps fading into and then out of earshot. He smiled slightly and turned his silver-blue eyes back to roam the distant tree line on the horizon. He found he was almost adapting to the elaborate façade that was involved in being "human." Unfortunately, he also held the deep sense of foreboding that this could not continue forever. Sooner or later, something would slip, and everything would crash and break.

How would Vance, Osman, Kyrik, or the other men respond if they were to discover they had been deceived? How would they respond to learn of his true race? These were questions whose answers were elusive, but not beyond reach. It might take some time, but he would somehow be able to discover the minds of the men.

He felt he had little to fear from either Osman or Kyrik, at least. Osman seemed wise and comprehensive, and he would not act foolishly or without much consideration. Kyrik was young and innocent yet, but had a good and open heart. As for Vance... Well, he would just have to wait and see. Legolas hoped it was not too late to salvage the aftereffects of the disastrous events of the night before, but it seemed the man was either unusually cold and distant, or just plain set against him.

He turned from his foreboding thoughts to the tent behind him, where Kyrik had yet to awaken. He soundlessly moved the tent flap aside and entered. The boy's face was neither as deathly pale as it seemed the evening before, but nor had it resumed its healthy glow. Legolas smiled slightly and dropped to a crouch beside the low cot. From the inner pocket of his tunic he produced the herbs he had spent painstaking hours of the night in search of.

The small green leaves seemed normal enough, but they held great potency as a painkiller and infection repellent. Such a plain thing held so much power. It had no official name, put the plant went back in the books of lore and it was named there i athelas, /i and used occasionally by the healers of Mirkwood. The elves of Mirkwood were not healers, but they had discovered that athelas had useful properties as a medicinal herb and tea, and it was used in minor illnesses and ailments. Legolas himself had greater faith in the herbs properties than many, and he had faith that the small plant would speed Kyrik's recovery.

Legolas crushed the leaves in his hand and sprinkled them into a wooden cup of water from the water skin hanging on the tent support. He swished the cup slightly to mix them together, just as Kyrik stirred, and Legolas turned to him, pleased with his own timing.

The sliver eyes fluttered open, and focused, with no small amount of confusion, on the figure beside him.

"Wh-- what? What happened?"

Legolas smiled softly and continued to slosh the drink around in his hand. "It is rather strange how men seem to lose their memory over night." Satisfied, he offered Kyrik the cup, causing one eyebrow to shoot up.

"What is it?" The boy eyed the cup unenthusiastically.

"Drink it-- trust me, it will help you heal."

"Hmm." Kyrik murmured doubtfully as he slowly propped himself up on one elbow and took the cup. Legolas smiled at the frown on the other's face as he tasted the mixture.

"It sure doesn't taste like it will make me heal. More like it will make me sick..."  
  
Legolas chuckled, but didn't answer as he watched Kyrik obediently drain the remainder of the cup. When he was done he took it from him and exchanged it for the water skin. Both looked up as the tent flap was brushed aside and a third figure ducked inside. He straightened, and then caught sight of Legolas.

"Well," Osman smiled, "I was going to see how you fared, Kyrik, but it seems you beat me to it Master Ranger."

"I prepared a drink for him which will help with the pain and speed the healing." Legolas put in.

Osman looked questioningly to the boy, who sighed.

"I'm fine Osman." Kyrik nodded unenthusiastically.

"I highly doubt that--" Osman snorted jokingly as he stooped to check the bandages around Kyrik's torso. Legolas smiled to see the long-suffering patience with which Kyrik bore the treatment and the calm practiced fluidity of the older man's movements.

So Kyrik--" Legolas smiled, "I take it you've been through this before?'

Osman laughed, and Kyrik glanced at Legolas ruefully.

"That, my friend, is an understatement." They were now joined by Vance, who added this last remark as he entered the tent.

There was a nod of agreement from Kyrik and a grunt from Osman, but Vance continued. "I would suggest getting to the food before it's all gone, Teveldin. It doesn't last long around here, since we operate on a first-come-fist-serve basis. I brought Kyrik a bowl of stew, but Taelon tells me you haven't eaten yet. I assumed you had since you were awake before me."

Legolas watched absently as Vance gave the bowl of stew to the boy, and he didn't bother to point out that he hadn't exactly woken first because he hadn't even slept at all the night before. He didn't think he could eat anyways.

"So Kyrik, how are you feeling?" Vance perched on the edge of his own cot and leaned towards the boy.

"Right now--" Kyrik frowned as he gave the cramped quarters a quick glance, and then finished frankly, "Smothered."

Vance laughed heartily at the lad's honesty. "Well, other than that, I meant. As in, are you up to the hunt?"

"Why of course Vance!" Kyrik said as if it had been the most ridiculous question in the world. "How could I not be? When do we set out?"

"Within the hour if all is at ready." Vance grinned, "I was just making sure."

"You'd have to tie me to a tree to keep me from coming with you, if that's what you're getting at." Kyrik pretended to be slighted, but his eyes gleamed with mirth.

"Aye, but of course." Osman said soberly. "We have been just searching for an excuse to rid ourselves of your pesky hide, and here it comes at last, just knocking at the door!"

Legolas glanced in amusement from one human to the other as laughter broke loose, feeling almost as if he had been in this place before, but had missed out on something. Now he felt strangely-- Well, included. As if he was a part of these men, of a family.

When Osman finished his ministrations and stood to leave the tent, Legolas followed him.

"Osman?" He asked hesitantly.

Osman turned, and smiled at him.

"Can I help your men prepare to move out?" Legolas offered, feeling awkward.

"Of course you can, if that is what you wish. We were pretty well ready last night; now they are but loading the pack horses and breaking camp."

Legolas nodded, grateful to be bale to be of assistance, and followed Osman silently as he led him towards a short string of horses being loaded with tents and gear.

Legolas quickly found several ways to make himself useful: Calming down some of the more excitable animals, securing the ropes and knots that held the packs in place, and helping the men lift many of the heavier items, his considerable strength and ease in doing so earning many nods from the other men, many of whom were still undecided about how they felt about the new stranger in their midst.

As he worked, Legolas was strangely aware of the pendant around his neck, smooth and cool against his skin beneath his tunic, shifting with every movement in reminder of it's presence. It kept his mind, on-edge and wary in the new environment, always anchored in the remembrance of what he had set out to do.

Sometime during the night, he had worked things out. He would travel with the hunters, reinforcing his human disguise as best he could, or as best luck permitted. He would observe and listen and, again as luck permitted, gather information concerning where he could find Arathorn son of Arador. And when he found the man...? Well, there was a catch.

You're going to swallow your basted elvish pride and ask the man for help! He told himself harshly. Ah, but for help with what? Storm Mirkwood, wrest it from Mahtan's grasp and expect everyone to cheer you on, a prince in exile who has suddenly appeared out of the blue after leaving them under your Uncle's heel for ten years?

They were not helpless, neither did I leave them. Legolas mentally argued with himself, before realizing what he was doing and pulling himself out of it. My only goal is to liberate Greenwood, whatever the cost. Naught else matters. He let his mind fall into a separate, detached realm, where he could logically sort things through while keeping deceptively busy with his hands and eyes. It was now that he ran the sketchy facts he had gathered thus far through his mind's eye.

There are still elves loyal to the king. I don't know which ones. There are more of these elves in Mirkwood than there are those loyal to Mahtan. I don't know how many. Of those loyal to that filthy traitor, most are being held so by threat. I don't know the details. Thailden and Atar are sources within the palace. I don't know if they're the only ones. Some kind of underground network has already been formed. I don't know if Mahtan is aware of this yet, or who their captain is. Mahtan holds sway over my father. I don't know how.

The thought of his father's face, skin sickly pale and eyes glassy and unfocused, caused Legolas to unconsciously pause in his work as sharp heart pangs throbbed through his body.

"Teveldin!"

Legolas was at once startled by a shout nearby. He turned to see Kyrik coming towards him, and he automatically forced a slight smile to his face over his earlier thoughts.

"Teveldin, we're ready to start out!" Kyrik grinned as he reached the ranger. "Osman said to bring you to the head of the line with us."

"You have my thanks, Kyrik." Legolas said as he followed Kyrik to the head of the group, where Osman and Vance were already waiting. "I fear I must still adjust to the way you do things in your camp."

"Fear not, master ranger!" Osman said cheerily as the party began to move, Vance having already helped Kyrik onto a a horse. "We are not so different from the rangers in many ways. I daresay we make a great deal more noise, but that is to be expected when the rangers have so much elven blood in them."

Legolas smiled and nodded, and then let himself be caught up in following the easy banter that flowed between Vance and Kyrik, his weary mind momentarily leaving behind thoughts of war and peace within the boughs of the forest he had once called home.

- -

It rained again that night. As the first downpour began, complete with thunder and lightening, Osman directed the men to bivouac in a narrow valley, tucked up as far as possible over a slight overhang, the closest shelter for miles around. Fire was considered hopeless at first, but under Legolas' experienced hands a cheery flame was soon blazing, directly up against the cliff-face with the men gathered about in a circle trying to get warm.

"I am officially glad we brought you along, ranger!" Vance chuckled to the elf at his side as he stretched out his cramped fingers towards the fire's warmth.

Legolas only smiled and nodded quietly, moving out of the way as another hunter shoved past to the fire. He retreated back a ways to the the ground beneath a thick-boughed tree a short distance off. He eased himself to the ground beneath the tree, glad of the sheltering leaves, so thick that they prevented the rain from reaching him.

He watched with a smile as the men jostled each other around in a friendly manner, vying for the best positions as they took advantage of the blaze after a days travel. Maybe he'd been wrong about Vance. He'd seemed rather standoffish at first, but throughout the day, and the time he had spent with Vance, Osman and Kyrik, he had warmed up considerably. Legolas was still uncomfortable saying much around the men, so Kyrik seemed to have self-appointed himself the ranger's constant companion and guide. Legolas enjoyed the boy's company immensely, probably more than he had ever enjoyed a human's presence before, and the lad's constant stream of speech gave Legolas an excuse to keep quiet, and when he did speak it was usually to ask a question that directed the conversation away from himself.

He knew, however, that this couldn't possibly last long, and had given a good deal of time over to furiously fabricating answers and excuses-- just in case.

He looked up as Osman approached, leaning up against the tree near the ranger with a sigh, content to watch his men as Legolas did in silence. The quiet stretched between them, lengthy but not uncomfortable, broken only by the patter of the rain on the leaves overhead and the rumbles of thunder from the east..

"Even had last night been truly accidental, if I had even suspected your intentions to have been foul I would have killed you on the spot, Ranger." Osman's tone was low and serious when he surprised Legolas by speaking.

Legolas looked up at the man in open surprise, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Osman looked serious, but not angry or threatening. "I don't take injury to any of my men lightly. And Kyrik especially is like a son to me."

"I--" Legolas began apologetically, confused.

"It is alright, ranger." Osman brushed him off nonchalantly. "I just wanted to tell you that. I don't honestly believe you would hurt a thing of your own will."

Legolas eyebrows shot up as floundered for words. "Thank you--" He simply said at length. He didn't understand Osman's words very well, and thought it would be wise to just listen to what the man had to say.

"I trust you, Teveldin." Osman looked down to meet the ranger's gaze squarely. "Otherwise I would never have asked you to accompany us, ranger or no. I don't know what it is about yourself that you're hiding, but you are safe here. You're a part of us now, and your fight is ours. If you ever need our help, you will have it. Even if it's just to talk to somebody that you need, we're here."

Legolas watched as the man walked away, strangely touched inside.

Oh, Osman.. He thought sadly as he watched the man leave. I know you're there. I know I could tell you. I only wish I really could...

- -

The next morning the rain had ceased, and the men, awoken before dawn, were on their way before the sun rose. Legolas had offered to take watch the night before, and his shift had been just before dawn. The silence was refreshing, and, as strange as it was, he admitted to himself that the men around him were filling a longing that had been empty in his heart for many years-- Company. Before meeting Arathorn several weeks before, he hadn't spoken to another living creature for ten years-- maybe more. And he was surprised to find how much he had missed it.

"How long have you three been traveling together?" Legolas asked Vance as they walked. He was curious about the humans, especially the special bond the three men of varying ages seemed to share.

Osman's wrinkled face cracked into a wide smile as he chuckled.

"Oh, a long time--" Vance laughed. "I ran off, away from my uncle's farm, when I was only seventeen like the headstrong fool I was, nearly got myself killed in a scuffle with some thugs, and then Osman here came along with his party and saved my neck. I've been tagging along with him since."

"And Kyrik?"

"Ah--" Osman smiled softly, gazing fondly at the lad where he rode beside him. "We picked the lad up when he was no more than nine years of age, only about a year after I dragged Vance off the streets. He was starving and homeless, and we adopted him, in a way."

"And his parents?"

"They were both killed when I was six-- by wolves, outside of Bree." Kyrik answered this question sadly. "I miss them..."

Legolas smiled comfortingly. "Of course you do, Kyrik. I am sure they were fine people, and the Valar will bless their souls."

Kyrik brightened just a little with this, but still remained thoughtful and contemplative for a long while. Finally, he asked, "Do you have a mother, Teveldin?"

"I did once." Legolas said hesitantly, wondering at the abrupt turn of speech in his direction.

"What happened to her?"

Legolas hesitated again. This was not exactly the line of questioning he had anticipated when he had developed prefabricated answers beforehand, prepared for any questions that might arise which required a speedy answer. The question itself was not an easy one-- his mother had long ago sailed to the Undying Lands, but of course he could not tell Kyrik that. "She.... died.... when I was very young."

"Oh.. I'm sorry."

Legolas only smiled.

"Do you have a father, then?" Kyrik continued casually.

"Aye... I did..."

"And-- what happened to him? Did he die too?"

"Nay--" Legolas looked down sadly at the boy, and then up again, his words so soft a whisper that they caused Kyrik to strain his ears to pick them up. "He no longer recognizes his own kin."

"Did you love him very much?" Kyrik asked softly after a brief pause, and the unexpected question caused Legolas to look down at him.

"Yes--" He smiled softly. "Very much."

- -

It was nearly a week later. Kyrik, thanks to the mothering of Osman, the joking concern of Vance, and Legolas' herbal ministrations, was near fully healed. Legolas was adjusting to the day-by-day living routine of a human better than he would have thought, but that didn't keep him from being almost hyper-alert at all times of the day and night. He rarely slept, and then only on nights when he was not on watch. This he volunteered for as much as possible, for it gave him a chance to think, as well as repay the men who had been so kind to him by letting them sleep. His shift was generally meant to be two hours, but he frequently took the entire night, simply because he would find no peace in sleep in any case. Osman had voiced concern over the elf's lack of rest, but Legolas had merely smiled and said that due to his elven blood he did not require as much rest and did not tire during the long night. This wasn't entirely true, and he wasn't always sure Osman bought it, but the man chose not to argue and gave Legolas his space.

It was nearing dusk, and camp had already been made for the night at one end of a spacious meadow. Legolas sat on a fallen long with his back up against a tree on the edge of the camp, listening to and observing the men grouped around the fire close to him. He let his mind wander as his slender fingers worked a length of thin, twisted rope, braiding snares for smaller game.

Vance and Kyrik were both nearby, and he had no idea where Osman was. The leader often mingled with the men when they stopped. Legolas didn't even glance up when Vance sighed, obviously restless, and looking down and saw Legolas' bow beside the elf. He picked it up, studying it carefully.

"How good are you, exactly, Teveldin?" Vance asked curiously as he fingered the long bow. He had yet to see the archer wield it, and it had awoken almost as much curiosity in him as it had in Kyrik, though he was slower to admit it.

"Good enough I suppose..." Legolas deadpanned, continuing to braid the rope trap in his hand with nimble fingers.

"Let's see."

"Pardon?" Now Legolas looked up.

"Let's see you shoot."

This was greeted by whole-hearted support from Kyrik, as well as many of the other men about, but Legolas only grinned and shook his head, giving a hundred and one excuses why he had not the time or energy, but very few of these were even heard above the newly arisen clamor around him. The men's curiosity had peaked at the prospect of a show of arms from the tall, quiet stranger in their midst, and they were bound and determined not to let it drop.

Finally, looking uneasily from one face to another as he stood, he shrugged acceptingly and accepted the proffered bow from Vance. He moved away apace, and shifted his stance, unsure. Did men shoot any differently than did elves? He had never given it much thought before. He would try not to move with his usual grace and speed, and perhaps they would be satisfied.

Sighting the bow carefully, and then glancing up at his target as if unsure of his own aim, he held his breath for an instant and let the bow sing. It found its mark in the trunk of a tree some forty yards away, not dead center, but exactly where Legolas had wanted it to land.

He smiled, turning back to Vance with an off-handed shrug. "I guess I've been getting a little stiff--" He had hoped that would be the end of it, but a disbelieving snort from Vance stopped his words short.

"Come on Teveldin, what are you trying to hide?" Legolas froze. Vance chuckled in amusement. "Anyone could see you hold that thing like you were born with it. Now why don't you want to show us what you can do?"

Legolas' jaw clenched as he fingered his bow at his side. So he wasn't very convincing. "Very well--" He struggled to keep a courteous face on his words, "If you truly wish to see what archery means, I may have to give you a demonstration."

"That's what we've been waiting for." Vance smirked, and Legolas was almost sure he had seen a challenging glint in the man's eye. Did the man think him incapable of this? Fuming inwardly, more at himself and the situation he was stuck in than anything else, Legolas turned to seek a new target, vowing mentally to show Vance the true meaning of "skill with a bow".

Kyrik grinned expectantly and shifted in his seat. He too had quite an eye for weapons, albeit less so than Vance, and could sense the ranger held his bow with a deep, natural talent. He had been surprised and a little disappointed with the ranger's first shot, and couldn't wait to see what Teveldin could really do with it.

"How about over there?" Vance gestured to a tall oak on the very far side of the clearing. Legolas nearly laughed as he released his first arrow. The time to draw and release several arrows in various patterns, speed shots, and groupings took no more than five minutes, but Legolas was forced to stop after this time when his hand flew back for a new arrow and found nothing but air.

There was a stunned silence from around him for many long moments, as many of the men stared in open-mouthed shock either at the ranger or at the tree across the clearing, now decorated with Legolas' arrows.

Vance was the first to break the silence with a long, low whistle of admiration. Enthusiastic applause then broke out, and Vance stepped forward to clap Legolas on the arm. "Well, master ranger--You must forgive me, for it seems I underestimated you."

"That was amazing!" Piped Kyrik breathlessly, now given over to complete adoration of the quiet warrior and his skills.

Legolas only nodded courteously to Vance, running his long fingers over the wood of his now as he felt for cracks or slivers. He promptly went to retrieve his arrows, and when he returned most of the men had broken off to their own business, most offering a congratulatory remark and a grin as he passed them.

When he returned to his former position, only Kyrik and Vance remained, quietly discussing the ranger's shooting techniques.

"Who's the best archer in Middle Earth, Vance?" Kyrik was just saying as Legolas approached.

"They say the Prince of Mirkwood holds that title. You have heard of the annual tournaments in Mirkwood, and the Prince won every year, or so they say. Up against the most skilled warriors in the world, and he has never lost."

"Never?" Kyrik echoed in awe.

Vance only shook his head, his green eyes following the ranger as he checked each arrow for breaks and flaws before slipping it into his quiver.

"You should pit your skills against his, Teveldin." Vance mused at last. "It would be a match worthy of remembrance."

"As a matter of fact, I already have." Legolas smiled distantly, and, pulling an arrow from his quiver and stringing it with hands that moved faster than sight, loosed it, and four others in rapid succession, into a thick-trunked tree on the far side of the encampment. Every arrow landed within a quarter inch of another, creating perfect circular grouping. "I am the better archer." He grinned truthfully at the thoroughly impressed man and boy in front of him, now probably wondering how any living being could shoot that swiftly.

"Really?" Kyrik exclaimed, wide-eyed. "I would have given gold to see that! And you won the competition?"

"Well, It was not exactly a competition" Legolas smiled half-heartedly at the boy's enthusiasm. He continued shooting in various ways as he carried on the conversation, only for his own practice now, for he had all but forgotten the thrill of archery over the past few weeks. He had been wary of making true use of the weapon while around the men for fear of suspicion at his skill, but now that they knew he was free to practice whenever he felt like it. And now-- for the present at least-- every arrow was not a precious treasure to be used strictly for hunting and defense, as had been the case for ten years now.

"You beat the Prince of Mirkwood at archery?" Vance sputtered incredulously. "But his skill is-- is... Legendary!"

"The Prince was-- is, a brilliant archer--" Legolas expounded hesitantly, no sure how far he should explain himself or how much the men before him were capable of understanding. "But his skills were honed within the safety of the palace walls of Eryn Lasgalen, through a life of relative peace. He could split a branch in one shot at two hundred yards, and ten years ago I would have been as a child beside such skill. Ten years of hard living in the wilds however, changed that in me. My skills now, borne from need and necessity, far surpass his, for mine have been developed to the point where I often depend upon them for my very life, and a single misstep or mistake would be all it would take for me to be pulled under by the brutality of nature's life."

"Why then, could you not compete in this years tournament? You could sure bring the Prince down from his high horse fast!"

Legolas smiled mirthlessly. "The Prince of Mirkwood has been off his 'high horse' for a long while now. Firstly, the tournament has not been held in Mirkwood for many years now, and secondly, the Prince no longer dwells there."

He spoke the words matter-of-factly, almost absently as he gathered up the previously abandoned braiding materials, but they still hurt inside. But he was a better archer now. Before, truthfully, he had been hailed as the most skilled Archer in Middle Earth, but his skills had multiplied tenfold, if that were possible, under the pressure of the tough life behind him for the last several years.

"What happened to the Prince?" Kyrik questioned innocently.

Legolas straightened, heaving a soft sigh and looking down at the bow in his hands, his shoulders slumped slightly.

"Teveldin?" Vance queried, concern marking his voice as a frown pressed his features.

Legolas tried to smile but failed, half-turning to answer Kyrik. "He was exiled from the realm of Greenwood many years ago."

Kyrik and Vance were both speechless, Kyrik's eyes growing wide and Vance merely blinking.

"What?" Vance finally said flatly. "How did that happen? What did he do?"

Legolas tried again to smile wryly, keeping his words clipped and matter-of-fact as he moved about his work as he spoke. "He was attacked by a man in his home. In defending himself, he killed the man and it was pressed against him as murder. He was exiled for it."

"But-- but-- if he's the best," Kyrik rationalized innocently, "Shouldn't he be able to fight everyone else off and stop that from happening?"

"Fighting was what got him banished, Kyrik. Sometimes fighting just isn't the answer." Legolas said sadly, vaguely amused by Kyrik's innocence.

"And sometimes it is." Vance added seriously, looking Legolas directly in the eyes. Legolas was surprised, and taken off guard by this, and took one step back, still holding the man's gaze. Something in the man's eyes sent off warning bells in his mind, but not of danger, and it confused the woodland elf. He pushed it swiftly away, however, trying to remain inconspicuous.

"I'll bet wherever the Prince is right now," Kyrik said confidently, "He's fighting it."

Legolas smiled sadly down at him, before looking up at the fading sky, his heart suddenly filled with a horrible longing, so deep it bordered on physical pain.

"I'm sure he is..."

- -

Aura Carina: Yep, you pinned those characters right on the spot! Glad you liked the twist—sometimes I surprise even myself with that kind of stuff—And I still say you're the better writer... )

Forever-mortal: Thanks! I'm glad you like it—I actually got the name from the story, lol, not vice versa. Also, yes, they all think he's human... For now... D

Sapphire's Angel: Happy you like the story so far! The next one, actually, is due as soon as this one's done!

Also thanks to Kattikit, starlit jewel, and Sapphire Cat for reviewing!


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